


Bodyworship

by havesomefun



Series: Beauyasha in Modern Times: A saga [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, and out of college, smut in odd numbered chapters, they have a relationship yeay, they're a lit bit older, this is how I imagined beauyasha actually happening
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 44,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22924228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havesomefun/pseuds/havesomefun
Summary: The Mighty Nein are a bit older now and things didn't turn out exactly as everybody thought they would. Beau and Yasha, for once, never got together even though they are made for each other.Yep, it was not the time then, but, then again, it couldn't be the time now. Right?
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Series: Beauyasha in Modern Times: A saga [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724074
Comments: 7
Kudos: 147





	1. Curious beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> some spoilers up until episode 96 ahead, so be aware

They had a good thing going here. A group of misfits that found each other and somehow made it through college.

It wasn't easy, really. The first real test of their friendship was getting through Molly’s funeral. Then there was that time that Yeza suffered a car crash out of the state and they had to rush to bring Nott's husband back to get proper treatment. Soon after, Yasha was kidnapped by a drug dealer who thought he could make her join him and they were there when Beau confronted her good-for-nothing dad and she honestly didn't know if she could have done it without them.

Oh, they had gone through stuff, but made it the best way they could. Together. So, it makes Beau a little sad when she sees her group, her gang, slowly drift away as they move on to the more adult portion of their life. You know, everyone has a job now and a shitty apartment and actual plans for the future. She knows she shouldn't worry too much, but then again without her friends she might end up alone. Again.

"So that's when the Traveller will come" Jester says, still trying to sell to anyone who is listening her weird cult/pyramid scheme she inadvertently found herself into. They arrived at the bar one hour ago and for that long she has been updating them on the news and simultaneously making one last pitch for them to join her company/NGO/religion.

"So this time he is definitely going to show up, right?" Nott teases. Jester opens her mouth to respond, but instead smiles brightly as she sees Yasha walking across the room. Their friend moves slowly, going around people the best she can with her large stature in this overcrowded place; it is Friday night after all and this is one of the up and coming bars the gang discovered before it was cool so for nostalgia's sake they keep meeting here.

"Yasha!" Jester beams.

"Sorry I'm late guys. I got held up but I'm here." And with that Yasha shakes her arms, sending nearly invisible droplets towards the ground. 

"What happened there?" Fjord asks.

"Some guy bumped on me going in. Maybe if I was on time I wouldn't be drenched in" she stops and sniffs the sticky liquid running down part of her shoulder and arm "beer".

That was one of the things Beau has always admired in Yasha; it would had been too easy for the 5'11" statue of a woman to lash out at the poor drunk at a bar but no. It was more like Beau herself to always quick to anger and get into too many bar fights for it, but her gentle giant friend had really taught her something about when it was time to hit and when it time to let go. 

"That's to no use." Yasha relents, giving up on trying to dry her arms and instead removing her flannel all together.

A puff of air gets caught in Beau's throat. These lasts months of adult work and responsibilities did nothing to Yasha's former-captain-of-the-women's-hockey-team college body. If anything, the fact that her friend is no longer getting punched for living makes it the more impressive how she manages to keep in shape. Said shape Beau has been thirsting over for the past decade of her existence. 

Much to Beau's enjoyment, her strong flex slightly as she pulls a chair to sit down arms framed by the flimsy excuse of a tank top Yasha had under her flannel. She knows Yasha has always been a little self-conscious of how the larger muscles made her look squared and masculine; to Beau this is absolutely crazy, because if anything a nice set of chest and shoulders are the sexiest thing she has ever seen in a woman.

Yasha's mismatched eyes find her and Beau is reminded of where she is. In a bar. With all her other friends. Where she shouldn't be ogling one of said friends. Once before, when they were getting to know each other and form this weird mesh of characters, she thought they would be together. Not just because they were the two designated lesbians of the group but also because Yasha was so what everything she could wish for a girlfriend. She was kind and patient, fiercely loyal and protective of her friends, much like Beau, and knew how to handle one's self. It didn't hurt that at first glance she was also beauty incarnated, with dark hair contrasting with smooth pale skin and a strong jaw to match. And, of course, a bod that could make Beau faint on sight. Well, she never stopped being so-beautiful-I-could-faint but Beau knows how to keep it together now.

Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, those hopes had subsided. Yasha had a lot to deal with, still reeling from losing a wife not long before, and Beau was learning how to express her feelings and becoming who she was going to be. Yep, it was not the time then but then again it couldn't be the time now. Right?

"Beau, Beau. It's your turn to get drinks now." Fjord calls, eyes squinting as her catches her staring.

"Sure." Beau gets up and moves over to the bar, steering clear from her thoughts for a minute. Between mourning the end of her carefree youth and agonizing of what-could-have-beens, she was going to need that drink.

"Hey, champ. Long time no see." The bartender flirts, winking as she refills pints at Beau’s orders.

"I can't go as hard as I used to. I have to wake up tomorrow, I guess."

"Our loss, I guess."

Almost too fast, a hand wraps around her shoulder and immediately Beau pulls her arm to punch whoever it was, only to find Yasha's face two feet apart.

"Wow, hey. I just came to help. I should be getting these anyway. I was late.”

"Nah" Beau relaxes, looking away to hide her blushing at the proximity of their faces "I got these."

"Okay" Yasha responds but makes no move to go back to the table, watching for the bartender. 

When their order is done, Yasha starts grabbing most of their tankers making an absurd juggling mess of drinks. Beau sighs and goes to help but halts when the bartender rests her hand over hers; she whispers "I just got out of a long, troubling relationship and I need some quick release to forget about it. If my memory is correct that's your jam, right?"

Coming to think of it, Beau whispers back "Yep, that's pretty much it." 

"I get out in thirty. I'll wait five minutes." And the bartender winks one last time and pulls her hand away.

"Dope." Beau says, turning to a subtle pink again. She shouldn't feel so shy, she is used to be hit on but even so she still flusters near pretty women.

Turning around, she finds a waiting Yasha, still holding a ridiculous amount of drinks in her hands.

"Oh, I see. Go on, I'll go to the table and give you space" Yasha muses, with an honest-to-God clueless expression so endearing Beau could die.

"No, no." Beau grabs the rest of the drinks and starts to walk back "I wasn't, I was just... she came onto me."

Yasha blinks, moving around a group of girlfriends celebrating something. Beau sighs.

"We hooked up once when I was really drunk but apparently I wasn't too bad, so she called me up."

"That's good, right?"

That makes Beau pause. Hooking up with strangers just didn't feel the same now as when she was young, dumb and looking for fun. She found herself either wanting to kick whoever she was with the second it was all over or, worse, she wanted to, gag noises, have someone to cuddle with and hold hands and cook for. Somehow, over time, talking to her friends, making sure everyone, mostly Caleb, went home safe became more appealing than a random hook up. 

"Yeah. But I think I'll pass." She says as they sit down.

"Pass what?" Fjord asks, taking a big sip of his drink.

"The bartender that wants to have sex with her." Yasha explains, casually handing out the rest of the drinks.

Nott fake gasps. "Who are you and what have you done with Beauregard? She's an imposter! Kill her!" The smaller of the group holds a napkin as a makeshift knife to Beau's throat.

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down. I'm just, I feel, I'm cool here, all right?" Beau says, slowly pushing the napkin down and releasing a fake smirk "Besides, been there, done that." 

She hopes her faux cockiness makes them stop and for what is worth Caduceus changes the subject and no more is said of the matter. Still, every now and then she feels Yasha's eyes on her.

They talk, reminisce, share news and one by one they begin to leave, having enjoyed a nice night. Beau, Fjord and Yasha are the last ones to go, Fjord waving from inside the taxi as it drove away. So, the two of them remained.

"Tonight was fun" Yasha unties her now only damp flannel from her hips and puts it on. The night was warm but now and then a breeze would come.

"It really was, we are the best at parties."

Yasha laughs lowly at Beau's signature brashness and seeing her friend happy makes Beau feel like staying with her friends was definitely the right choice.

"I kinda don't want it to end” Yasha says, watching the cars go by into the night.

Blame it on the alcohol, but Beau also doesn't feel like ending the night just yet. "Then let's not. I have booze at my place and we control the playlist."

Yasha seems to think of it for a second, but finally whispers "Okay."

About twenty minutes later, they enter Beau's apartment in silence. Beau turns on the lights and opens the fridge "Are we feeling like more beer or are graduating to the hard stuff?"

When she receives no answer, Beau turns to see Yasha looking over the window. Yes, Beau's apartment was small and a bit too hot for the Zadash weather but from here she could overlook the city wherever she felt like. It was like she owned it, everything could be hers from up here. That thought helped her through some tough times, when she was feeling alone and powerless; I guess that means this is her home after all.

"Yasha?"

Yasha finally turns, city lights reflecting on her face in a myriad of colors "Oh. Yeah. Whatever."

Beau takes a white wine from the fridge, uncorking it and serving in two glasses. 

"We should let it breathe for a bit, or whatever. I just thought the bitterness and nutty smells would be a nice to remove the aftertaste of that beer. Or whatever."

Yasha smiles where she stands, like she knows Beau doesn’t like to flaunt her wine knowledge as to not sound conceited like her family.They clink their glasses a moment later and Yasha's eyes turn to Beau.

"You know, I was a bit surprised when the bartender just offered herself. It seemed so easy" Yasha's eyes return to the city. "And for you too, just getting drinks then having girls falling at your feet."

"What? No. What? It only happens some time. Usually I am the one going around and failing miserably."

"That's not true" Yasha says matter-of-factly with a glint in her eyes.

"No, it really isn't. I usually get the girl."

They laugh for moment, Beau taking another sip of her wine. 

"You once said there was something about me that people wanted. Well, I feel like there is something about you too. I saw that before and I see it now."

Beau stops mid sip. "What do you mean?"

"I think it is who you are, you know? You are so sure all the time, so confident. You make your moves and it is for sure a gamble whether it works but, I mean, your track record speaks volumes. Really, you picked me up at the bar with the I have booze at my place. Now that I think about it was one of your best pick-up lines. Thank you for that."

Beau basically freeze frames in her mind. Did Yasha think she was making the moves on her? Because she totally would if she thought she had any chance with her friend, but she didn't 'cause they lost their chance in the past and now it was too late? Wait, did she make the moves on Yasha without even knowing? And more specifically did Yasha still come to her house? Like she would like Beau to give it a shot? Everything and more is running through her mind and the only thing that escapes her lips is a stupid "What?"

"You asked me to your apartment late at night and I know you like how I look 'cause you say I am hot like a lot, so I said yes." Yasha is saying all of this while Beau just exhales different variations of the word "what" to herself. 

Finally, Yasha turns to realize the state her friend is in.

"Unless you don't want to hook up with me." There's a pause and Beau is still trying to piece together everything when Yasha's piercing eyes leave her face and focus on the city once more "That's okay too. I guess we are friends."

"No! No!" Beau practically screams, her wits having returned from this emotional roller coaster. "I mean, we are friends, but I do wanna hook up with you. Of course I wanna hook up with you, you are Yasha for fuck’s sake. You would be the one who wouldn't want to hook up with me, really."

"But I do. I came here." In all of her might, Yasha really doesn't seem to understand how there was a confusion "In your apartment. It's late."

"I know! But friends can go to each other's apartment late and not hook up! Right, I'm right. Am I not right?"

"Oh. I see" Yasha turns once more to the window.

Beau's mind is still racing, trying to make sense of if she did imply anything but she would never have the guts to ask Yasha out and Yasha's calm and cool behaviour is not helping. All through this last 30 seconds of torture her friend basically kept the stoic facade but Beau's instincts kicks in that last sentence and pick up that Yasha is hiding some disappointment.

Taking a big sip then setting her glass on a nearby corner table, Beau turns to her friend with trembling words but with a confident fake bravado "So you wanna hook up with me?"

"Yes" Yasha says in her normal cool tone, no hesitation, and coming closer like she is trying to make herself understood, she shyly whispers "It's late."

"Great!" Beau exclaims, slightly startling Yasha and resolve takes hold within her mind. Yasha wants her and said so, that's about enough for her. "So, you wanna hook up with me, I know I wanna hook up with you, always have, not a big deal, never mind, how do we do this?"

Yasha frowns a bit "I thought you were supposed to be good at this."

"Right, right!" Beau nervously, scratches the back of her undercut. She should shave it again, her hair is getting long, oh my God, think about this later, go back to the present.

Beau takes the empty glass from Yasha's hand and sets it next to hers. She grabs her hands and looks into those incredible eyes, now her mind in a single focus.

With a slow but deliberate movement, Beau takes Yasha's hand and places them on her hips. Her own hands drag up from Yasha's shoulders, intertwining into her hair behind the girl's neck and pulling her head down, closer. The moment elicits a small intake of air from Yasha and she instinctually flexes her fingers and digs them into Beau's hip bones. That small reflex it's all the incentive Beau needs to close the gap between their lips, starting slowly, still testing the waters so to speak. Quickly, she finds herself intoxicated by the feel of Yasha's incredibly soft lips pressing down while she does her best to hold on to her tiptoes; Yasha bends down further, holding Beau impossibly closer and deepening their kiss.

Emboldened by their closeness, Beau tugs on Yasha's hair until she feels the other hiss in pain and so she delves her tongue into their kiss, biting the other's bottom lip with all her force. Yasha moans, tightening her hold around Beau's lower back and the smaller girl almost loses her breath under those strong fingers. Tumbling a bit backwards, Beau catches herself on Yasha's shoulders and for a moment they have some room to breathe.

Yasha's pupils are completely blown out, her hair is a mess where Beau had been burrowing her fingers and her face is flushed, lips wet. The temperature has risen significantly and all of Beau's thoughts finally reorganize properly. 

"This good enough for you?" Beau quips, not hiding the roughness in her voice not even in the slightest.

"Yes. I liked that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it is a little OOC, but I liked their dynamic in the early episodes, when they flirted and Yasha was kind of clueless so now she is a dumb jock and Beau is a disaster lesbian.


	2. Steam and Conversation

"Yes. I liked that." Yasha says, smirking a little. 

Beau pulls her down again, now going straight to her neck, biting and sucking every inch of pale skin she can. The flannel is thrown haphazardly to the floor and she can feel Yasha shifting her footing so she can lodge a strong thigh between Beau's legs. Then, with one hand on her hip and the other snaking down to her ass, Yasha ruts against Beau with purpose, ripping a loud moan from her smaller friend. 

"So this is how this is going to be, huh?" Beau thinks to herself, reclaiming Yasha's lips in a bruising bite.

Heat rising, their lips savor each other, tongues licking and teeth biting in an increasingly frantic pace. Beau can feel the heat emanating from between Yasha's legs where they meet her thighs, hearing Yasha's whimpers increase in volume as they move closer together and Beau enjoys the joy of being completely surrounded by the strong arms and broad shoulders that she admired for so many years; this is shaping up to be one of the hottest hook ups Beau has ever had and they still have their clothes on.

"Enough" Beau raps, between Yasha's maddening kisses "Clothes. Off. Now."

Yasha stops the kissing but keeps her hips locked in place as she removes her own tank top and bra. Still catching her breath, Beau watches as Yasha's torso is exposed and she can see the fullness of her breasts and the details of her abs. Beau hesitates for a second at the sight, this Greek goddess of perfect physique might be too precious to touch, but she also sees the outline of the scars and her fingers trace the one on her shoulder and just like that she remembers this is Yasha, the friend she pinned after for so many years and now she would have the privilege to be with her; she could not hesitate or let it go to waste. 

Hands running down her sides, purposefully avoiding the mounts of temptation right in front of her, Beau motions with her head to a door not too far to their left "Okay, we are going to have to make our way to my room because what I want to do with you is going to require a bed."

Yasha breathes and runs her hands to the other's hips as if to lift her up but Beau extricates herself faster and moves towards the door, linking hands and dragging Yasha behind with her.

Once they're inside her bedroom, Beau tugs Yasha over the bed and immediately climbs up to straddle the other's waist, resuming their grinding now on a flat surface. Beau finally gives some much-needed attention to Yasha's breasts, sucking and biting with as much gusto as she had her neck before; before she knows it, she’s set out to make a map of bruises on Yasha’s torso all over that pale skin with every ounce of energy she’s got. 

Yasha is beyond herself at this point, grabbing whatever she can reach, Beau's thighs, ass, arms as she slaps one of her hands over her own mouth to keep her moans and heavy breathing sounds to a minimal. Beau notices this and lifts up her head for a second.

"You don't have to hold back" Beau says, replacing her mouth with her hands on Yasha's breasts "I like hearing you."

"I have to" Yasha pants.

"No, you don-" Before she can finish her sentence, Yasha flips them over with a heavy grunt and manages to trap both of Beau's wrists over her head while continuing to grind her entire, exceptionally in shape body onto Beau's abs. Beau gasps, struggling against the pressure in her wrists, matching each thrust up. Before her, Yasha's intense gaze betray her increasingly desperate state and the thrusts become more reckless, uncoordinated, pushing harder; yes, it is definitely the hottest hook up Beau's ever had.

"Keep them up while I undress you" Yasha says, voice still somehow even and low, yet her eyes sparkle with what could be mistaken for sparkling rage.

She starts by undoing the knot on Beau's sweatpants string, sliding down lean legs while avoiding touching actual skin. She traces her fingers back up calves and thighs, leaving a trail of soft, lingering kisses behind, finally wrapping her fingers around her hips again.

Beau squirms in place, wanting to both move closer to those lips and melt into the bed "Can I move now? I'm kinda bad at staying still."

Yasha lets out a small laugh "Really? I wouldn't know" her fingers climb higher, reaching under Beau's cropped top and bra and removing them in one fell swoop.

No longer restrained by her own clothes, safe from her boyshorts, Beau wraps her legs around Yasha's back and goes back to kissing, hands moving to scratch her back and sides and shoulders, everywhere she could reach. Yasha moans into their kiss, using some levarage on the bed to move them up and center. Her hands find Beau's hair and pulls on the blue ribbon, making hair spill out on the pillow.

"You are so pretty all flushed hot and bothered" Yasha notes with a smile, making the same blush intensify over Beau's face and neck. 

"Well, you're fucking hot, okay? And I'm trying to get laid here."

Yasha chuckles, lowering her head and kissing all over Beau's chest. She takes a nipple in her mouth and sucks, scraping the tips with her teeth and teasing it with her tongue. Once it's stiff and flushed to her satisfaction Yasha moves on to the next, holding her hands to Beau's hip and keeping her in place. Beau prouds herself on being an expert on women's pleasure but she has never felt quite like this from having someone play with her boobs; she is rutting up against Yasha's hold and these obscene and high-pitched feminine noises escape her lips involuntarily. Her hands move to grab the sheets because she feels like she might just fly away.

"Anything you want in particular?" Yasha asks, in that signature soft voice, as if she wasn't just sucking the living crap out of Beau's tits.

"I, I, I dunno! Just keep going, okay?"

Yasha gives one last bite to the underside of her left boob, ripping an embarrassing moan from Beau, and begins a slow descent down. When she reaches her friend's boyshorts she pulls it with teeth and let's it snap against Beau's defined abs. She jolts up, looking down to see the shit-eating grin on Yasha's face as her fingers go under the sides of the underwear and slide it off the girl's hips.

Her fingers scrape the outside of Beau’s thighs and one hand finds the back of a knee to help them reposition. Yasha takes a deep breath, actually licks her lips and dives in with a sly smile. At the first touch of her tongue, Beau keens and moves her hand to those dark luscious locks, weakly scratch her roots.

After all these years Beau had always guessed Yasha would be great at eating out and right now she feels like her instincts were thankfully right; Yasha really knows what she is doing, first exploring with an intense resolve and then committing to eliciting all kinds of sounds and pleas from Beau as she licks and sucks and bites like it is her only purpose on this earth. There is a steady climb that she takes Beau through, clearly going towards a goal quickly and efficiently, and Beau enjoys watching the way her friend is making her fall apart and lets herself relish in how intoxicating it all feels.

When she falters for a bit, Beau looks down to see what’s going on and finds she might not be the only one digging this. While one hand still holds her hips in place, the other has gone down inside Yasha’s own jeans and is moving at a shocking pace with an almost angry intent when it suddenly goes out to grab one of Beau’s tights and holding it in place. Beau doesn’t understand what it means at first then the hand that was holding her hips slowly climb up her thighs and she sucks in a breath as a single finger traces up between them.

“I feel like you could take all of my fingers but you would break down before that.”

Beau keens in a rush of desire, pushing against Yasha’s fingers and moaning as the first one slips inside. Yasha moves slowly at first but gets progressively bolder as Beau’s very loud affirmative sounds encourage her further; she watches her with a smile and soon returns to the licking and sucking as the hand of the thigh squeezes almost too tight. Beau grabs onto that hand, relishing in the feeling of pain as another finger makes its inside and is suddenly stuck with the thought that this is everything she could have ever asked for. 

When her third finger goes in, Yasha repositions her arms and get into a new angle that reaches that sweet spot and Beau screams, arching her back and moving as close as she could. They keep at a frantic pace, Beau trying to keep up with all that is happening, as Yasha ruts against bed and licks and sucks. All at once, the world comes crashing down on Beau and she feels her wits leave her as Yasha guides her through an earth-shattering orgasm. For a moment, she can only feel her body convulse and tremble and Yasha’s fingers slowly making their way out to be replaced by her soothing tongue.

Then her hearing returns and she’s panting, shallow and rapid, as is Yasha above her. Yasha’s breaths reach the tops of her breast, leaving a tingling sensation right above where her heart is, but they grow faster and louder. Her pants turn into whimpers and Beau finally sees the look of the desperation on Yasha’s face as she ruts against Beau’s still tight; the hand that was locked in her thigh has returned to inside Yasha’s own pants and she uses it as a leverage as she thrusts with abandon. Beau is awestruck by this sight, running her hands over to Yasha’s breasts and hair, giving little nods of encouragement.

“You got this, hot stuff. Go ahead” Beau whispers harshly with a bite to Yasha’s ear.

"I, I," Yasha grunts as she retakes Beau's lips, grinding down harder and faster and a minute later all of her seizes and she collapses on top of Beau. Completely mesmerized by the vision, Beau brushes Yasha's hair from her face and sees the aftermath in between their bodies; with a torso filled with quickly darkening purple marks, Yasha's spread legs are still locked around Beau's thigh where her juices have soaked through her jeans and are now dampening Beau's hips. 

"What?" Beau responds to hearing a grumbling where Yasha's face rests on her side.

"I liked that" Yasha says, rolling over next to her at a languid pace. Beau is still catching her breath and rest a hand over her own fast beating heart.

"Dude, that was awesome.”

“It was kind of great.”

“Dude, that was awesome! You totally crushed. We totally crushed it.”

Yasha laughs lowly and closes her eyes. Beau turns to the ceiling and waits, holding her hand to her heart; God, her heart is beating so fast, Yasha might just have given her a heart attack. She drifts off accidentally, briefly waking up in the middle of the night to grab blanket for the both of them; Yasha’s large frame takes up a lot of the space but Beau makes it work and goes back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beau is falling and she doesn't even know


	3. Harvest Close

"Beau, Beau."

Beau releases an unpleasant grunt; it was way too dark and she felt way too tired. She slowly opens her eyes to find a worried looking Yasha.

"Beau, I can't find where you hung your keys."

Beau's half-awaken self first notices Yasha's dopey mismatched eyes looking over her; despite the ungodly hour, her face looks fresh and her hair has this unruly but smooth shape to it, like she could move it around and it would look purposefully set that way. She shifts it to the other side, waiting for an answer; at the sight of flexing biceps Beau’s brain short circuits but then she remembers being asked a question.

"Who hangs keys?" Is Beau's response.

Yasha gives her a puzzled look "Then where do you keep your keys?"

"I dunno, somewhere close to the door" Beau is running her fingers over her eyes then it hits her "wait, you're leaving?"

"I need to go get my car" Yasha responds.

Beau shrugs and gets up "Sure".

The sky is a dark blue with the beginning of a sunrise amongst the fainting stars; Beau drags her feet around the apartment, stretching her arms above her along the way and a tinge of sadness hits her. Close to the window, she catches a glimpse of her reflection and realizes she hasn't put any clothes yet; meanwhile, over her shoulder, Yasha is stuck shuffling her feet close to the bedroom, avoiding her gaze. All at once, Beau comes to the amusing realization that not only was Beau naked the night before, but she was naked with Yasha and her worries subside a bit. She finds her keys, next to the corner wall, and hesitates for a bit, supressing a chuckle at Yasha’s unfocused eyeline, before bending down to get them.

She unlocks the door and Yasha approaches sheepishly.

"I had a very nice night."

"I did too. Hey, if you are ever close by" Beau quips, awkwardly motioning a hand to her naked body.

Yasha laughs lowly, eyes down "See you."

Beau cringes internally and opens the door, murmuring a "See you too" as her friend leaves; thankfully nobody is in the hallway at this time of day. That’s because, Beau later finds, it's four-thirty, yet she's too restless to go back to sleep; she's thinking back to waking up to Yasha's perfect face, beautiful and slightly ragged, voice like silk.

The image lingers and her mind wanders to the night before. With years of yearning, Beau had a lot of expectations of what this night would be, if it ever came to be; you know, fireworks, incredible awkwardness, never being able to look at the other’s eyes again. Yet, the whole thing was so unexpected and dynamic that she didn't even had time to worry about anything. If anything, it felt instinctive, sensual, stimulating.

It was more than the fantasy of hooking up with your hot friend and Beau doesn't know how to make sense of what she is feeling. Time flies by and Beau receives a text right around 7.

_Hey, don't forget our breakfast! I neeeed to get more cupcakes or I'm gonna die! :P_

Jester's text is a good enough to get Beau out of bed and into a bakery with minutes to spare. They meet up and it takes less than twenty minutes for Jester to pick up there’s something wrong.

"What is going on? Tell me. Is it that girl?" Jester stretches the last syllable with a wiggle of her eyebrow "The bartender? Tell me, tell me. I have ways of making you tell the truth."

"Nah, I didn't hook up with her."

"But you did hook up with someone!" Jester wiggles her eyebrows even faster "Who was it? Tell me, tell me, tell me."

Beau sighs. Truth is her mind is all kinds of jumbled and she could use some help. Plus, Jester won't stop until she gets what she wants.

"I can't keep anything from you. It's Yasha."

"What?!" Jester squeaked "Oh my gosh, this is amazing. You two would be so good together, oh my gosh."

"Wait, wait, chill for a second. I dunno..."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Her words drag with annoyance "You guys hooked up and you're all weird. You don't do that. That means you like her."

Beau sputters "Maybe, maybe it is because she's our friend and I don't wanna ruin our friendship and..."

"You have to take her on a date."

"What?!"

"Yeah, Beau, yeah. If you guys are gonna date you have to take her on a date."

"Are we going to date? I, I..."

"Yes, Beau, oh my gosh. I get it, you're confused and she's our friend so you don't wanna, you know, fuck it up. Unless you wanna..." Jester wiggles her eyebrows again "So you have to try to see if this works and get an answer. Instead of ignoring it, like you do, I know you." Jester squints her eyes, all-knowing.

Beau sighs. She does wanna see where this leads; she still remembers at time when they could have been a thing and she definitely remembers last night.

"Ugh! Fine!”

Jester beams and goes back to shopping for pastries.

Later, Beau agonizes over what to text for way too long. She writes and rewrites like she'd never send a message before and finally caves with a "screw this".

_Hey. Wanna go on a date?_

The answer comes in ten minutes later.

_Sure._

Beau can practically hear Yasha's shrug in her voice; it reminds her of that time they watched from a hill when their friends messed with some street rats. Back then, the hope of the two of them together was alive and well; Beau would flirt at Yasha like throwing pebbles at a brick wall and it felt great, challenging. Now she couldn't for the love of God know what to do next; Beauregard hit-it-and-quit-it Lionett couldn't be less suited for this dating-a-close-friend if she tried.

Thankfully, Yasha saves her by texting first.

_I'm free Thursday night. Pick you up at 8?_

_Dope._

And she officially starts to freak out. No way this could work, she is not the dating type; heck, she doesn't even let her flings sleepover, how did Yasha managed to do that in first place? This whirlwind of thoughts plagues her all week and when Thursday night comes, she still hasn't figured out what to do. Her first instinct is to botch this whole endeavour, if there is something she is good at is screwing up, but she's older now, she is supposed to know better. So she gets that redo on her haircut, picks out some clean clothes, puts on her lady-killer parfum - yes, she likes women's perfume, sue her - and waits. At eight-ten her doorbell rings and Yasha is waiting for her downstairs.

"Hello" Yasha waves at her.

"Hey."

They dance awkwardly around each other and end up just getting into the car. Yasha puts on a soothing, sad country music and drives silently. Ten minutes in, Beau is ready to crawl out of her skin; she is having a hard time staying still in this very weird situation and every time she looks at Yasha or Yasha's hands on the wheel she remembers their night.

She hears Caleb's voice in her head "Make conversation".

"So, how was your day?"

Yasha doesn't flinch "It was fine. How was yours?"

"Fine too. A kid burnt his eyebrow with a bunsen burner" Beau chuckles lowly "it was fun."

"It sounds fun. Tell him to put on shaving cream on every day and it will grow faster."

Silence fills the car again. When they reach their destination, Beau sees that it is a carnival, with carousel rides and popcorn.

"Does this sound good?" Yasha asks.

"Yeah. Whatever. I mean, it's fine."

Yasha shuffles slightly "I wanted to apologize. It was not polite."

Yasha explains she had to get her car out of the gym parking lot because they were using the space for some charity something. Beau is brought back to that moment and the same sorrow takes over; like she wanted her to stay.

"That's cool, man. Don't worry." She automatically lies to stop thinking about it "It's just because I haven't been on a date in a while."

That brings a smile to Yasha's face "Me neither. I always wanted to come here, my students me tell about it all the time."

"Oh yeah, how's the teaching?" Beau asks.

For once, they get into it pretty easily, teaching being one of the things they had in common. Though Yasha's day job was as a sports statistic’s person or something like that, she also coaches a team of hockey for young girls on weekends, using a bit of her own experience. Beau, on the other hand, teaches history and world geography at an all-male prep school, which is quite the polar opposite. She loves it; maybe it is because she has the sense of humor of a thirteen-year-old boy, but she's great with the kids and Caleb teaches there too, so it’s the more fun.

"So the coaches are talking about making a league and maybe competing against the other school coaches. I, "Yasha falters for a second "I think it would be fun."

"Heck yeah, man. You should play, you are so good."

Beau almost adds that she doesn't know why Yasha ever stopped but, truth is, she knows. She doesn't know all the details; as far as she know, her friend was supposedly kicked out of her team for reporting on their coach, something about overworking the players for sponsorship money. Yasha'd made a link between the overworking and Zuala's disease, but the coach was never fired and Yasha stopped playing hockey as a result.

"I'd put good money on you" Beau tries to lighten the mood. 

Yasha laughs "Yeah? How about we see about that?"

And Yasha walks them over to the games. They stroll for a bit, the taller women getting very competitive about the various strength-based scenarios. For the one that they have to hit pins, Yasha basically punches a whole through the tent after her third try and holds her prize, a stuffed spider toy, like it is the most precious thing ever. Beau joins the fun, choosing to play one of the games that need a more delicate, dexterous touch and winning a stuffed owl herself.

The conversation flows easily after they go pass the initial awkwardness; turns out they have been friends for so long and know very little about each other, so it is like getting to know someone you're sure you'll like. They laugh and joke around and by the end of it Beau is genuinely enjoying herself.

When they arrive back to Beau's house, something springs to her mind.

"Shit! I forgot Professor Thaddeus!" Beau slaps her forehead, thinking of the stuffed owl left next to the hotdog stand.

"Oh, no" Yasha seems truly heartbroken "Let's go back."

"Nah, some kid will get him and be very happy. That stupid fucking owl will be fine."

Yasha chuckles lowly at that and Beau sees that they have arrived. It wasn't a bad night and it felt good and easy. Beau's words leave her without her noticing.

"It's late. Wanna come inside?"

Yasha shudders a little, gulping air "Yeah."


	4. Within the Nest

Four flights of stairs go by in a rush. As soon as they're inside, Yasha effectively pins Beau against the door while she throws her keys towards that same corner on the floor again.

"Last time you left a lot of marks" Yasha says between heated kisses and wandering hands.

"What? Don't like em'? I didn't see you complain."

"Not complaining" Yasha grabs Beau's hair in a steadfast lock in one hand and unbuttons her sleeveless black blouse with the other "Giving back."

She dives her head down Beau's neck and sucks everywhere, sinking her teeth into her tendons, collarbone, shoulder, the top of her breasts. Beau grunts in pain, wet heat travelling down between her legs. She grabs onto Yasha's biceps, scratches up and down as she lets herself enjoy being ravished.

When the heat gets too overwhelming, she shoves against Yasha only to meet solid, unmoving muscle; Yasha raises her sincere, pupil-dilated eyes to question and Beau, much to her surprise, whimpers in desperation. 

"Come on!"

"I'm getting to it." 

Unlike hers, Yasha's voice is low and steady. Her fingers go to the edge of Beau's top to slide it off while she slowly drops to her knees. Kissing down Beau's torso, she unzips the other's dark skinny jeans, but it takes too long with the tight fabric; Beau helps by resting her foot over Yasha's shoulder, watching as lips trace back up her leg. 

From there on, Yasha's tongue glides up that sturdy thigh to make contact with Beau's covered center. Beau's eyes immediately roll back in bliss and she squirms, thinking about how she is not used to being rendered this useless by anyone. If anything, she is the one making heads spin. She lets Yasha enjoy herself for a bit, then, taking back some semblance of control, pulls on her hair harshly, looking down with intensity.

"My room now. I'm not going to be the only one naked here."

Yasha nods in agreement, rising up to her feet. Her figure returns to her full height and now looms over Beau; she looks even more incredible up close, with her white teeth and sly smile, so beautiful Beau feels like fainting. Yasha's eyes drift for a moment to her friend's breasts, licking her lips, before hoisting Beau's legs around her waist. Seeking control again, Beau just interlaces her fingers behind Yasha's neck and steals a deep kiss while the taller one takes them back to her bedroom. Yasha sets Beau by the edge of the bed and is ready to lower to her knees again when Beau grabs her by the collar of her shirt.

"I mean it" Beau huffs out, out of breath "I'm not gonna be the only one naked here. Besides I need a second or I might just pass out."

Yasha nods and steps back, enjoying seeing how Beau really is looking ragged; chest marred with purpling bruises, she is haphazardly perched on her elbows on the bed, picking up her breath with legs open, in simple bra and a pair of boyshorts that sport a darkening stain right where thighs meet. Beau sighs, noticing Yasha proud grin on her face.

"Go" Beau clears her throat "Strip. Take off your clothes, lemme see..."

Yasha’s striping take Beau’s teasing away. First, the pale Amazonian unzips her pants and slides them off along her boots; it brings attention to Yasha's legs for days, made of unmarked, smooth marble.

Then she unbuttons her Hawaiian shirt; Yasha always seems to be wearing those and this one, with the little lighting clouds, is her favorite. Beneath it, a racy set of black lace lingerie frames her sculptured body; the see-through bra barely hides where her nipples are stiff and an entanglement of lace roses and vines so thin it struggles to not snap spontaneously go around her hips.

"Wow, Yasha."

Yasha poses gracelessly "You like it? It's for our first date."

Beau is in absolute dazed state, trying to memorize all the details of the enticing form before her.

"Yeah. I like what's underneath but, yeah, that's a pretty packaging."

Yasha blushes profusely and leans back down to kiss her. Beau is definitively torn; she doesn't want to take her eyes of a lingerie clad Yasha but, then again, kisses. They share sweet kisses as they explore each other's bodies with their fingers; Yasha seems to be enthralled by Beau's waist and boobs while Beau's has her hands kneading and squeezing that sweet little ass just the way she likes.

Yasha moans loudly when Beau's nails dig into her lower back and begins directing her kisses down Beau's chest. Like the last time they were together, she removes Beau's underwear raking her fingers down her sides, eliciting another deep, shuddering breath, as she sinks back into her; this time, Beau’s legs are spread wide as Yasha settles into a slow and thorough rhythm.

Her tongue takes on a merciless pattern; she laps, sucks, licks all over, revisiting the places that had Beau going crazy before. She brings her up, tethering the edge, only to slow back down and bring her back again. Beau protests at first, then gets so enraptured by the teasing that she resigns herself to Yasha's wishes, unleashing whimpers and moans every time she thinks release will come.

This sweet torture goes on for a while, sounds getting louder, wetter and more pornographic every time Beau's release is denied. Yasha feels herself also getting restless, more eager and sloppier as she continues; it is like every pleading wail Beau lets out makes her want to see her unravel fully. At last, Yasha pushes one middle finger into Beau's heat, making her curl her toes in euphoria. The finger finds that coveted spot in Beau's insides and holds on to it, tongue getting harsher and bolder. Beau's pleasure rises and crests and finally crashes down over her in a wave of ecstasy.

Yasha coxes her through it, brushing a finger over her cheeks as they kiss slowly, other hand still inside. There is a moment of quiet before Yasha's hands start to move again, caressing Beau's insides. Beau sighs and brings Yasha closer together, holding her by the neck as another finger goes in. They sluggish move together, sleek, sloshing sounds all around them, eyes locked onto each other's; Yasha seeks in them any kind of discomfort when her third finger skins in, yet all she finds is wonder and trust.

Yasha doesn't hold back this time and soon she has Beau moaning her orgasm into her arms. She drips down onto the mattress, thighs wet and sticky; it is filthy, sweltering and Beau's first thought is that she wants to do this again and again.

"Holy shit, Yasha" Beau pants "That's our first date?"

Yasha chuckles, avoiding her gaze. She helps Beau up to lay side by side on the pillows. 

"So, you liked it?"

"Shit, are you kidding me?"

Yasha laughs again, rubbing her thighs together. Beau sees this telling sign and, with a grin, slides a leg over Yasha's hips.

"I'm gonna show you something you'll like."

Beau rolls up to straddle her waist and grinds down on Yasha's abs.

Yasha stutters "You, you don't have to, Beau."

"Trust me, this is as much for me as for it is for you."

Beau gets down and kisses Yasha again. It is slow and full of teeth, matching the pace of hips against abs.

She holds their lips against one another and whispers "What do want, baby?"

Yasha grunts and places Beau with one thigh between her legs, pressing against lace panties. 

Beau purrs into Yasha's ears "You like that, baby? Do you?"

Yasha keens and wrap her hands around Beau's hips to help her grind. As for Beau's hands, they slide to Yasha's boobs and squeezes, teasing her nipples over the thin bra fabric. 

It makes Yasha moan and she pulls Beau closer together, crushing down harder. Beau tries to move her hands lower, towards where her thigh met Yasha's heat, but her friend holds her wrists; instead she brings them back, one of them coming to grasp around her throat.

Nodding, Beau gets the message and presses her fingers close together. Yasha grunts, head hitting the headboard with a jolt.

"That's good, that's good, that's good" Beau chants.

She closes her grips a little harder and keeps moving her hips, moving her knee earnestly to the lace-clad center. It gets louder and faster and then Yasha's hands tense impossibly tight around hips before letting go. Beau slows down her movement, releasing some of her grip until Yasha grabs both of her hands and kisses them unhurriedly.

"You were so good, baby" Beau offers, running her thumbs over Yasha's bottom lip.

"Oh. Thanks."

Beau smiles and settles back on the bed. Yasha clutches to her hands once again and hold them over her chest to the feeling of her fast beating heart as she focuses on the ceiling where the city lights flash back at them. There is a moment of silence and then Beau scoots closer to Yasha, also watching the city lights illuminating their afterglow.

"I have work in the morning" Yasha states.

"You can leave when you want. I won't be weird."

"Okay."

They drift off for a bit then Yasha gets up and starts to dress herself. Beau follows her to the living room, locating her keys, and opening the door. Before they know it, they are sharing one last lengthy kiss. Yasha leaves and Beau goes back to bed; she sleeps soundly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lingerie deal with it


	5. The Journey Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little bit of angst, character study
> 
> they still hook up, don't worry

It is late in the afternoon when Beau gets to correcting papers. Her Sunday was spent visiting Dairon at the Cobalt Reserve and arguing about her thesis for too long; her teacher was very unimpressed by her progress and had a lot to say about it so now she had to make up the time. Finally sitting down in front of her favorite window, beneath the first lights of the twilight, she writes notes on her student's test as music blasts from the laptop in front of her.

"If you wanna be my lover..." she bops her head to the Spice Girls' classic.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings.

"What? I'm listening to rock! Guitars are cool!" Beau shouts back, hitting a key so the 90s tune stops.

Even so, music continues around her, now changing into a muffled version of an Ariana Grande song as her upstairs neighbor's party blasts through into her apartment with wanton. The doorbell rings again.

"Coming!"

On the other side of her door stands Yasha; she is smiling, though her gaze is turned up to where the sound comes from.

"Hey, Yasha."

"Oh" Yasha's eyes shot back at her "Hey, Beau."

They stare for a moment, not sure what to do next, while thumping music plays around them.

"I..." "How..." they talk over each other, then blush simultaneously as Yasha's motions for Beau to start.

"Whaa, what are you doing here?"

"I was just... Are, are they always this loud?"

Beau shrugs "It's even louder inside."

"Can you even hear the doorbell over this?"

"I'm used to it, you know."

There's a crashing sound, some glass shattering, followed by a cheer.

"And you just let them?"

"Sure. Jan's parties are the tits and Yannick brings me drinks. Anyway, what are you doing here? Do you need anything?"

"Oh." Yasha's smile returns “I guess I wanted to take you up on that offer."

"What?"

"Yeah, you said if I was ever near by..."

"Oooooooohh!"

Beau remembers making an offhand comment about that, though this was not what she'd expected at all. She thought Yasha would never just agree to her joke of a booty-call idea and definitely not three days after their first date. Days in which not even a text had been exchanged between them; as far as she knew, they were still doing the three-day-wait-we-are-still-getting-know-each-other thing. Well, in that case, she was supposed to text tonight. That is, if she hadn't totally forgotten in the midst of reviewing her thesis, correcting papers and it generally being a Sunday.

"You know, that is really good timing 'cause I was totally going to call you, like yeah, you beat me by like a second. Come in."

Beau scratches the back of her undercut and holds the door open. Yasha wonders in easily, looking up as if realizing it is indeed louder inside.

"Sorry. This is weird. It is just so much."

Beau chuckles at veiled rage on her tone; Yasha's eyes got this fascinating gleam every time she got angered or annoyed. It’s quite amazing how it contrasts with Yasha’s clothes, her dark blue beanie, some dark grey sensible cotton V-neck and joggers that made her seem comfortable and so soft.

"It's better to just join them, man. It's a party, that means it is always good."

Yasha crooks her neck to the side, like a cat would, and seems to let it go for now. She takes one step closer, then two, and a Beau holds her breath.

"I came to speak with you. I really liked our date. I..."

Yasha is interrupted by the jarring sound of a doorbell and the gleam returns to her eyes. Beau releases a shuddering breath, entranced by the shift.

"See, told you I could hear the door" Beau boasts, going for the door.

Across the threshold a man with dark hair and stocky physique holds a tray with a flashy summer cocktail, umbrella and all.

"I want you to try this. I'm telling ya; it is one of my best" Yannick says, trying to hide the excitement in his voice.

Beau greets him with a nod. Her noisy neighbors were Yannick and Jan, a couple of blacksmiths who owned a shop close by. As so, they worked all day in the fiery heat surrounded by the deafening banging sound of hammer hitting blade to keep their business alive so you couldn't blame them for wanting to enjoy their weekends' off with a bit music just a tad too loud.

He seems to notice Yasha's large figure looming behind "oh. Didn't mean to intrude. Good night to ya" he turns to Beau "tell me what you think about it, would ya?"

"Thanks, man."

Beau takes the drinks and closes the door once more, noticing Yasha's looking down in apparent embarrassment.

"Want a sip?" Beau asks, unsure of why her friend would be feeling so shy when she had just a few seconds ago walked into her house proposing sex like it was no big deal.

"Do... do you wanna take a walk? We could talk, or something."

Beau smiles. Her friend looks so soft and a jog and an orgasm is just the break she needs before she can think of grading papers again.

"Sure" she responds and takes a big gulp of the drink before setting it down by the sink. It tastes sweet at first, probably some fruit liquor, then quickly transitions to the sharp pull of vodka and the deep burning of tequila. Beau's head reels a bit and exhales a breath of lingering alcohol "oof, he wasn't lying, it is real good, real strong."

Yasha smiles too, dropping her shoulders, and they leave to walk the boulevard. At this time, the streetlights are just beginning to turn on, casting a faint light onto the concrete. There are very few cars on the street even though it is one of the main avenues, still some solitary wheels trail away over the asphalt; as they fade away, silence envelops them. They hear each other's breaths, their matching steps and the breeze brushing past them.

Beau guides them a few blocks down, answering Yasha's curious questions about the history of the city with what her Cobalt Soul's learning had taught her. Living in Zadash was something still new for Yasha who herself was born and raised in the least friendly country of Xhorhas. She'd traveled, searching for a place to call her own, studying abroad at the Empire and found in the Mighty Nein the solice of trusting friends, friends who she could care for and would protect, rescue her. Now her family, her tribe, lives here, so she might as well.

"And, tell everybody, this cafe has the worst overpriced drinks. All sugar" Beau explains.

"I like sugar. We never had sweet drinks in Xhorhas."

"Yeah, I know it sounds like one of your things, but it's way too much. You'll overdose on it."

"One of my things?

"Yeah, you know. You're all like 'I don't need much to live but I like girly things', like flowers and harp music” she grins and adds “And lingerie, I guess."

Yasha sputters for a second and blushes, even though moments ago she was ready to murder her neighbors. For Beau, this dichotomy Yasha represents, sweet and soft spoken versus strong and austere, is so truthful and pure. So Beau tells her so.

"It's amazing, you know. That you let yourself like the things you like besides what people expect you like. Expect you to be. I'm, I'm not like that, sometimes, most times I just do whatever to spite them."

Yasha slows down, moving her hair around like she's searching for the right words.

"You know you don't have to, right? You're Beau. You're free" Her eyes drift down "you can do whatever you want."

"Yeah, maybe, sometimes." Beau tries and fails to conceal a bashful smile.

They look at each other, leaving out unspoken words, and stroll their way back to the apartment. The sound diminished somewhat, like the party was settling down a bit, but when Beau walks in Yasha doesn't follow her.

"I thought you wanted to..." Beau motions inside with her thumbs.

"Oh. Actually I... I came to see you" Yasha falters for a bit, setting both hands into her front pockets and rocking on her heels. She hushes out "I actually came to say I like our dates. And you. I like our dates a lot. I'll leave now."

Beau furrows her brows in confusion.

"Thank you for the walk" Yasha continues "Good night."

Then she waves shyly and leaves. Beau takes a second to realize what just happened and shouts back into the hallway "I like our dates too."

The next day, Beau sits uneasy in the teacher's lounge. She is trying to wrap her mind on what Yasha meant by liking their dates, or even liking her, when Caleb slips next to her.

"Might I ask if something is troubling you, Beauregard?"

"Yeah, got a lot on my mind."

"Is it something I can help?"

"What does it mean when someone doesn't want to have sex with you?"

Caleb immediately gets very uncomfortable, blushing furiously and avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, my. I'm not the best at this. Perhaps you should talk to Veth when she comes to pick up Luc."

Beau acquiesces "Yeah, good idea, man."

Usually she wouldn't trust others with her feelings, or whatever, but last night she could barely shut her eyes going over what she said that made Yasha go away. So much for a break.

Caleb sits quietly next to her, offering his own brand of comfort until their break ends. Her students ask her about the papers and Beau just slap her head, promising to bring them back the next day with the scores.

After the school day is over, Caleb waits with her for Nott. Veth, Beau reminds herself, just as their smaller friend comes into view.

"Hello, friend" Caleb greets her "Beauregard has an inquiry that you are best suited to answer."

"What did you do now?" Veth asks with a roll of her eyes.

"I did nothing, man!" Beau gets a little defensive, crossing her arms and slumping her shoulders "I just don't understand how someone would come into house, say they wanna have sex, then after some talking leave without sealing the deal?"

"Oohh, so, it's girl trouble. Who is she? Tell me! Do we know her?"

"What? Yeah, but it is not relevant who it is! I don't get it, that's all!"

"Well, have you guys, you know, hung out before?"

"Yeah, we went on a date and I guess you could consider the walking around another date, but she said she liked those."

"Did you say something weird because you guys didn't know each other very well?

"No, we know each other pretty well. I mean, a little, we didn't talk much until the first time we, you know."

"And you know each other for how long?"

"Like, years, man. Why does it matter?"

"Because if it is someone you know for years who we know, it has to be one of us. Also, it is a girl who, though you know, you don't really talk to. So, it is Yasha! You're dating Yasha!"

Beau gasps, releasing a string of incoherent noises. Veth takes this as a confirmation and laughs.

"Oh, boy" Caleb mutters under his breath.

"You little detective." Beau grumbles "so, what if it is Yasha? It still doesn't make any sense!"

"Oh, but now I know who it is I know how to go about this, hold on" Veth scratches her chin in thought "so you say she came to your house for sex? No offence, I know you're a great laid but that doesn't sound like Yasha."

"Yeah. I suggested it before but she said she actually came to see me. We end up taking this walk then she tells me she likes me and leaves."

"Oh-no-regard. That's bad. She came just to see you and tell you she likes you, that’s huge for Yasha. Before she left, did you say you like her back?"

"No. Shit, I dunno if I do, not like more than friends. We, we barely went out. I don't know why she said that. It's not like I asked."

"She probably said it because she needed to get it out of her chest. Our friend is dreadfully earnest" Caleb interjects.

"See? That's so much there! Why..."

"Stop freaking out" Veth interposes "So she likes you. It just means she likes being with you, nothing else. You can just give it time and say it back when you truly reciprocate, if you get to that. Did she look angry or disappointed when she left?"

Beau shuffles on her feet.

"No. She just said it and left. And I mean, why would she, without the sex?"

"Oh my God!" Veth rolls her eyes so hard they actually hurt "Not everything ends in sex, Beauregard! You're more than just a body and Yasha knows that. Come on! Give yourself and her some credit."

Beau shrinks in place.

"What, what if she wants something more? I'm not really great at relationships. This is going really fast and I’m not sure of I’m feeling."

Caleb rests a hand on Beau's shoulders. "It is Yasha we are talking about here. If you feel uncomfortable with how things are going you can always tell her. She's your friend as well as ours, you can be honest with one another. If you need time, you can tell her."

Beau nods, kicks some dirt around and watches as Luc comes running from inside the building.

"Thanks" she mumbles at the both of them before high-fiving Luc and heading out.

"We're very happy for you two!" she hears Veth shout out from a distance.

In general, Beau is used to having her insecurities get the best of her, but to this date it startles her the toll it takes on her. Yasha is her friend, first and foremost, she should be able to tell her how she's feeling about this new thing that is happening with them. Also, she wouldn't lie. Yasha has this uncanny determination to always tell the truth that Beau never really understood.

Still, everything feels very final. It is because it's Yasha that Beau can't screw this up; it would be bad not just for her but for the whole group. Personally, she doesn't want to hurt Yasha with her jumbled feelings or her minuscule experience in adult relationships. So, Beau thinks to herself, she can't freak out every step of the way, she has to give herself time and let things flow as they should. Everything will be fine if she lets things happen.

It doesn't really work for the first few hours. She keeps overthinking and replaying their interactions, so she dives into her work and rigorous exercise to try and forget about it, yet Yasha stays in her mind the whole time. She thinks about her old coping mechanisms of going out, getting drunk and hooking up with strangers but they don't feel as genuine. Like she knows it won't work after years and years of it never working.

So, she thinks back to the last few things that made her happy. Recently, she'd finally embraced her passion for reading, going through some moral philosophy arguments that really validated her quasi-skeptic worldview. It was too complex for now, but she could try sketching the city skyline like Jester taught her, though the thought of butchering the architecture would just aggravate her further. And, of course, there were the dates she'd had with Yasha; she legitimately laughed that day in the carnival and strolling around had been amazing even if it was so simple and effortless.

She twists and turns in frustration until in a heap of boldness she tries this honesty thing and texts Yasha.

_Can we talk?_

This time it takes longer for her to respond, but it comes indeed, one hour later.

_Can we meet tonight? I'm getting home in a few._

_I'll meet you there._

Beau racks her brain to remember where Yasha lives. Now that she thinks about it, she might had only visited her once, her apartment way too far in the edge of town for it to be somewhere their gang would meet. Still, she manages to direct the cab driver to the right building complex in her haste for a resolution.

She climbs down, traversing the vaguely familiar pathways up to Yasha's door. With one arm raised, she takes a moment to breathe, willing herself to not have much expectations and pushing down doubts and reservations; once again centered, Beau rings the doorbell.

It takes a second but Yasha finally comes to the door. She holds a towel over her shoulder with one hand and it's dressed in full workout gear, from her hair tied back into a tight braid to a sports bra and tight mid-thigh shorts with some hideous green sneakers. Her face is shiny with leftover sweat, as is the rest of her body, like she just left the gym. What impresses Beau the most though is how this ensemble highlights every single muscle in her body; there are strong arms and shoulders, thick legs and calves, a pair of breasts framed by delectable collarbones and, her favorite part, the combo of abs and waist with a defined V she wanted to wrap her fingers around. Beau had already seen Yasha's body before, lately in a lingerie of all things, but she never took her time to really admire it when clouded by the haze of arousal. It was like she was seeing details for the first time. Thankfully, Yasha interrupts her train of thought before she starts drooling.

"Sorry, I thought I would have time to shower before you arrived. If you wanna wait, I can be quick."

"Don't care" Beau hushes out, moving to grab Yasha by her nape and pull her down for a ravishing kiss.

Yasha is surprised by the sudden move, taking a step back to catch herself and Beau from falling on the floor. Beau deepens their kiss further, into hot and heavy, already sinking her teeth and making a complete mess. To her credit, Yasha tries to keep up but is being thoroughly distracted by hands running down her arms and over the waist and abs. When air finally runs out, they part with swollen lips, blown pupils and heavy pants.

"What has gotten into you?" Yasha grunts and grabs Beau's ass to pull closer and inside. Once in, she pushes her back into the door, making her accidentally hit her head against the wood.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it, I like the pain" Beau licks her lips "you look really hot."

Yasha looks down her clothes "I am sweaty and dirty."

"Yeah. It's hot. You're so hot right now."

Beau sinks her teeth into Yasha's exposed neck and licks the mark after; it tastes salty, like fresh sweat. Yasha buckles and thrashes, as she almost falls to the floor, punching the doorframe. She stops for a second, searching for Beau’s eyes.

“What did you want to talk about?”

"Nothing. Wanna take me into your room?"

"Yes, please" Yasha whispers against Beau’s lips. Taking a step back, she holds her a hand out. “Are you sure? You don’t wanna talk?” She asks.

Beau sees the honesty in her eyes and can no longer pretend she doesn’t know why she came here in the first place. She sighs.

“I’m freaking out here.”

Yasha lets her hand drop.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no! You don’t have to say you’re sorry. I just, I got scared, ok? It is all going too fast!”

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t know what else to do?”

“Wait, what?”

“I want to keep seeing you, but you didn’t text, so I thought you were already done with me” Yasha’s voice has an unfamiliar exasperation, like she wants to express but doesn’t quite know the words “Then I remembered the offer and I went there so I could see you but you said you were going to call and I just didn’t wait enough. Then that guy comes in just as I’m going to say I like you and I got jealous, it was so bad.”

She stops, looking away, hands flailing around for inexistent pockets. She continues, this time voice lower and unclear.

“And I end up saying I like you anyway, like I knew I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.”

Beau leans her head against the door, taking it all in. She clears her throat.

“So, you didn’t mean to say that?”

“I was trying so hard! I didn’t know what I could say that would make you wanna go out again, but that was definitely not it. But then I look at you and it gets all weird.”

“So, you like me, but you didn’t want to say it?”

“Yeah, it’s bad every time” she crosses her arms, shoulders down “And you are you. I wanted you to say it first. It just… slipped. That’s why you should not talk and just listen.”

Beau doesn’t miss the undertones of Yasha’s harsh upbringing on these last words; in fact, with every word she lets out the trust they shared with each other these past few days give away to Yasha building back the wall that kept her and her friends away for so long.

“Look, Yash” Beau reaches out to unfold Yasha’s arms “I got scared, that’s for sure. I wasn’t ready to hear it and I know I’m not ready to say it back. That’s my bullshit insecurity crap. But you shouldn’t have to hold back, or not say. We are friends. We can talk, right?”

Yasha looks into her eyes, sincerity shining through. Her voice takes on a deep resolve.

“I want a relationship with you, not just another hook up. I’ll wait until you’re ready, I’ve been waiting. I can’t promise I won’t jump the gun sometimes, just… Don’t read into it. If after a while you say you wanna be just friends I get it. I had to… Try, after all this time.”

It resonates with Beau. She knows she wants to try; her talk with Jester and then Veth and Caleb, the dates, the sex, maybe this could be something, the thing that she has been missing for so long. Now, she also knows she needs time and, in that front, Yasha’s doing all the work, offering it on a platter to her. The whole thing sounds too good to be true and it triggers all kinds anxieties in her but she sees Yasha right there, holding fast and sure like she always has, and Beau knows her motives to be true. Her devotion to be true.

“You’re too good. You might have to wait a while, I suuuck at this.”

Yasha chuckles “I believe in you, I believe in you a lot.”

Both can’t help but smile, Beau coming closer to lay a soft kiss on Yasha’s lips. Beau cocks her head, leaning against the door once more.

“You got jealous of Yannick?”

“I was just about to punch whoever came in.”

“So violent” Beau muses, with a Cheshire grin “It looks good on you.”

“You think?” Yasha grins back, hands wrapping around Beau’s waist.

“So hot.”

And so, Beau captures Yasha’s lips in a bruising kiss.


	6. In Hot Water

Beau basically pounces on Yasha moment they're into falling distance of her bed, running her hands in every muscle she can reach, all the while trading wet kisses and filthy moans.

They kick off their shoes and Yasha manages to get them to the middle of the mattress. She pins Beau down with her weight, taking her time to ravishing her neck like she seems so fond of doing. Under her fingers, Beau can feel each time her shoulders flex, a display of strength that has all the moisture in her body shooting down her legs.

"I wanna see you" Beau whines, buckling against Yasha's bigger frame.

Her friend listens and backs up for a bit onto her knees, removing her sports bra in one motion. Beau welcomes the now somewhat familiar sight of Yasha's breasts with a content sigh and drops her forehead into her sternum almost reverently. She licks up between them, fingers coming to twist her nipples, palms caressing and squeezing. Yasha releases labored breaths as she pushes Beau's head closer while her other hand slips past her sweatpants and underwear to grab her butt cheek.

Beau licks and sucks on collarbones as her hands continue to drive Yasha crazy, whose breathing is getting heavier and hands get more impatient. When Yasha starts to rut against her torso, Beau stops, looking into Yasha's eyes as her hands go down to grab onto the edge of her tight shorts.

"Can I?" Beau asks, a finger touching just inside the hem while the other goes to run over her covered center.

Yasha sighs "You don't have to."

"I want to, oh, I do" Beau punctuates this by pressing harder while kissing her sternum one more time.

Yasha groans and grabs her hands, placing them over the hem on her hips "Just... start slow."

"Ok, ok. I can be gentle" Beau whispers. She can see the vulnerability in Yasha as she helps to remove her last clothing; she'd noticed how the last two times Yasha had chosen to not let her use her hands on her.

Naked at last, Yasha lies down the center of the bed, bringing Beau along on top of her like she was light as a feather. She holds her close, kissing softly while running her fingers through her hair. She pulls Beau's hair tie off and away, pulling on the roots of her brown hair to keep her just out of reach from biting. She then pushes her hands up her chopped top and pulls it over along with her bra, making their bare chests touch. Both gasp at the sensation, Beau moving to brush them together, hardened nipples hungry for stimulation. Beau takes one hand she had been using to hold herself up and traced over muscled arms, sturdy shoulders to hold on Yasha's chin. This makes her stop her kissing, looking into Beau's former blue, now darkened eyes.

"You know, we don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"No, I want to. I... I want to. With you. I trust you."

Beau turns to kiss one palm that was burrowed into her hair "If you're sure, just tell me what you want, baby."

Yasha gasps, thumb running over Beau's lips "I... I want your mouth."

"Ok."

Beau kisses the tip of her thumb and starts trailing kisses down her torso, over her waist and on the inside of her thighs, all the while telling her how she tastes good, how soft her skin feels and how hot she is. It seems to help Yasha relax bit by bit so by the time she reaches her goal, Beau can take a moment to admire. To her surprise Yasha has no hair whatsoever covering her, being completely shaven bare anywhere from her eyebrows down. Beau stores this information for later and strokes her tongue slowly into her, from top to bottom. Yasha immediately tenses up again, hands coming to grab Beau's hair, but with every exploring lick she loosens up. Her faint gasps return gradually, Beau listening for any indication of discomfort. 

Not too long after, she finds Yasha's clit and sucks lightly on it between her lips, grazing her teeth just barely. Yasha shouts in sudden pleasure and Beau smooths it over with kitten licks until she hears Yasha sigh happily again. She lets herself enjoy the salty-tangy taste of Yasha, taking her time and exploring everything her tongue could reach.

So entranced into her own amusement, it takes a while for her to notice the increasing pressure of Yasha's fingers against her scalp. When she feels an especially hard tug, she pulls away, looking up to her face. It is flushed, a bright red covering her chest and neck with drops of sweat running down the sides of her temples.

"What? You want me to stop?"

"No" Yasha whines in a deep voice "The opposite. I want you to go harder."

"Oh... ok. Tell me everything you want. I got you."

Beau turns back down but this time she feels Yasha's hand pushing her to a certain direction. She follows her lead and bypasses her clit to lick around her entrance and Yasha moans and pushes down harder, moving her hips in sync. The way Yasha takes control after that turns Beau on in a completely new level; using her fingers and one word commands, her friend gets changing speeds, angles, intensity, all to get her to do what she wants.

They go on like this for some more time, a buildup made together. It gets faster, harder, Yasha getting wetter, more assertive by the second, slurping sounds reverberating around the room. With one last plunge of her tongue and a precise hip thrust, she releases a final moan, fluttering around Beau's tongue. Yasha releases her hand but Beau stays, cleaning up the mess while eliciting a few more gasps through her aftershocks.

Beau climbs back up, going straight for a kiss which Yasha reciprocates softly. She watches as Yasha's chest rises and falls heaving; she can see Yasha still has blushing pink all over her pale skin with a thin sheet of sweat covering her entire body, a few strands of her hair having escaped her braid and sticking her forehead. Beau brushes them aside with an all too knowing grin on her face, Yasha chuckles at that.

"Are you ok? Was this ok?"

"Oh. It was very ok. It just had been a while. You know, since I've been with somebody else."

"Oh. I figured. I don't mind."

Yasha lays down her side so she can be face to face with Beau.

"You are very good at that."

"Well, thank you. You too if I might say so myself."

Yasha chuckles, pushing her face into the pillow.

"No, no" Beau pleads "Don't hide your beautiful face. Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You shave? Like everything?"

"Yes. Cleanliness is important."

"What? So you don't like it at all? Do I have to shave too?"

Yasha comes closer, a dead serious expression in her face. Beau feels intimidated for a moment, like she offended her or something, until she feels a hand slip past her pants and underwear to grip her between the legs. Her eyes roll back automatically and when the open again Yasha is barely one inch away, breathing down on her.

"I don't like it on me. But I like everything all on you."

And then proceeds to press down, the heel of her palm digging into her Beau's clit with purpose. Beau moans, head rolling back and exposing her throat which Yasha immediately sinks her teeth into.

"You are very wet" Yasha deadpans, like she doesn't have one hand inside Beau's pants.

"Yeah, of course" Beau can barely keep her eyes open with the force that Yasha is pressing down on her "You pushing down my head, telling me what to do" she clears her throat "It was very hot."

"Oh" Yasha presses harder and Beau's mouth opens on an 'o' shape "so you like being told what to do."

"In the bedroom only" she raps out "Not all the time. But you are very good at it."

Yasha grins wickedly, trapping an earlobe between her teeth as her elbow flexes, pushing incredibly hard. Beau grunts loudly, hands reaching out to grab the other's arms.

"I'll tell you what to do. Take off your clothes."

Beau gets to it quickly, using her trained flexibility to her advantage. Yasha watches intently the whole time, one hand propped up behind her neck. When they are both naked, Yasha makes a circling motion with her fingers and Beau turns around to settle on her belly with a roll of her eyes. Her hand return, teasing Beau's lips, spreading her liquid all across her, getting ready for whatever. Beau moans and starts to push against the fingers to hurry them, but Yasha seems happy to just tease her mercilessly.

"Yash..."

"You're very impatient."

With that, she slips her first finger in. It slides smoothly, almost imperceptibly, closely followed by a second. With the third Yasha starts moving, twisting and scisorring them in a rapid pace. Beau grabs onto the sheets, her hips raising up to meet the fingers. It feels so good and Beau wishes for more.

"Your fingers are so long. They stretch me so good" Beau whines against the pillow.

Yasha chuckles lowly "You like it, so you'll take it all."

Beau moans at that so Yasha puts a hand on her lower abs and pulls up, positioning on her knees on the bed, kissing between Beau's shoulder blades. The new angle makes for more room, so Yasha goes on with a fourth finger. Suddenly, Beau feels her insides fluttering, a quick build up to a weak orgasm rushes through her as Yasha presses on. It helps to accommodate her fingers as Beau can now feel herself dripping down her thighs. Yasha slips her other hand across her body to tease her nipples, slowing a bit her fingers down as if to not to hurt her. Yasha waits for her, teasing and stretching further, so slow it's like torture. Finally, Beau whimpers in frustration.

"Come on, Yash" she says, between pants "I can take it. Don't tease me."

Yasha smiles, kissing her temple. Her hand withdraws completely, and Beau nearly cries in desperation, only to have it return in full, her entire fist making its way in. The stretch seems impossible, but Yasha carries on carefully, rubbing her lower back and kissing her spine. Beau is just about to give up when she feels it bottom out, reaching everywhere inside her in the most delicious way. Yasha return to a semblance of a rhythm and they move together, droplets drenching the sheets, the mattress, their bodies. In this angle, Yasha can use all her strength in exciting ways and it is something Beau never felt before. She feels incredibly full and content, her orgasm approaching fast and unstoppable.

"Come for me" Yasha whispers in her hear and it is like it's the magic word. Beau comes all over Yasha's forearm, loud and messy, for what it feels like minutes. She sees starts and fireworks and her entire body seizes and convulses in absolute bliss. Yasha holds her through it, being careful as she slowly coaxing her fingers out one by one while they elicit two minor orgasms in their way.

After it's done, Yasha pulls Beau closer to her, avoiding the large puddle on the middle of the bed and they cuddle for some time. Beau felt so tired after so much emotional strife, but now it is like she's made a new, her body finally able to rest. She is about to pass out when she feels Yasha's hand reach out to hers, interlocking their fingers in a tight bond.


	7. A storm of memories

From where she leans against the headboard, Beau can hear Yasha grunt in frustration. The sun streams down her face and her eyebrows twist into this adorable frown where she tries to hide it with her arm. Beau can't help herself; with an easy smile on her face, she reaches over to caress the back of the sleeping girl’s neck. Yasha sighs, frown softening and muscles relaxing, and Beau can go back to reading her moral discussions on her side of the bed.

Lately, Yasha staying over had become some kind of a routine between them, Beau slowly getting used to waking up next to someone, the same someone, for what it feels like the first time in her life. There’s a learning curve, of course; most times she doesn’t know if she should get up and start her morning routine or if she waits and makes breakfast, maybe something else. She was out of depth here, but even she could tell these past three weeks had been the best she had in a while; it’s like a perfect mix of a comfortable warmth of her sheets in the morning and the fun of dinners and dates and amazing sex.

"Why don't you have any curtains?" Yasha asks, removing Beau from her morning reveries.

"We wake at dawn. If you can't go out all night and still be up in the morning, you're doing it wrong."

Yasha releases another unpleasant grunt and turns around "it's too early for a Saturday."

"I teach Saturdays’ mornings. Outstanding history of the Dwendalian Empire. It’s at 8, right after my push-ups, you know?” Grin on her face, Beau cocks one perfectly shaped eyebrow "And... if we wake up early, we have time for an extra kind of work out?"

Yasha grunts again, pulling a pillow over her head. Chuckling, Beau gets up, sets her book down and pulls on Yasha’s legs until she rolls over.

"Besides” Beau explains “the windows are so big getting curtains for them costs a small fortune and, between the too-expensive rent and living and shit, I don't have the money right now."

"Argh. This apartment is so impractical, and you have terrible neighbors."

Beau ponders on it for a second. Her apartment is, in fact, very impractical; there are no good parking spots on the street, you have to walk up four flights of stairs and a long hallway to get to her door, no curtains, and her neighbors are consistently loud even on the weekdays. Yet, it’s small, so different from the endless halls of her childhood home, and it’s bright, like the sun knows it’s welcome inside; even Yannick and Jan stomping on her ceiling remind her of Caduceus smooth snoring, inadvertently lulling her to sleep. The first time she looked through the wide window she felt great and God knows Beau is not one to deny herself what she likes. Well, not anymore, at least.

"I know but… I didn’t like to go back home until the Xhorhaus. And then everybody left and I didn't want to find it empty again. When I got this place… it had this window and Yannick arrives every day like clockwork, like Caleb used to. It feels..." Beau stops herself, unable to find the right words just yet.

"I get it" Yasha agrees in that resolute tone of hers "I feel this way about my flowers. They keep me company."

A soft smile dawns on Yasha’s lips. Her gaze drifts down Beau’s attire, in her work outfit already, so she gets up with a sad sigh, adjusting the borrowed set of too tight shirt and too short sweatpants she was using as pajamas.

“You know” She brings Beau closer to steal a kiss “I could get those done for a penny. And, worst case scenario, my plants would like the sun.”

Beau answers with a smile at first, waiting for Yasha to dress up while looking out the window when the implication in her words hit her. If she heard correctly, Yasha's basically talking about moving in with her plants, or maybe she’s just thinking about the nights she’s spending there, or maybe none of those, or maybe both. Either way, her alarms should be going off, yet, instead of running for the hills, Beau entertains the idea of having this, the warmth, the fun, every day, like clockwork. Seems like ever since their talk, Beau’s been calmer, cooler, her usual boastful, like she hasn’t in a long time. This ease, this trust; she could get used to this. She might as well do what she does best and jump off the cliff, dive in, so to speak.

Beau clears her throat “You know I like you, right? I trust you and we have a real connection here. I feel like if we want we could take a step forward, but like a step not a leap, like definitely going and…”

Yasha, in the middle of changing into her clothes, turns around and raises an eyebrow.

Beau sighs, holding onto her bravado the best she can “Maybe, do you, could, can I call you my girlfriend?”

Yasha takes a deep breath, unusually bewildered. She whispers “Yeah, yeah, I mean, if you want to. I could call you that too.”

“Dope” Beau nods with a clap of her hand and looks down, hiding her faint blush. Mostly because her crazy random idea didn't totally backfire and because Yasha’s got this look of surprise on her face too endearing to go unnoticed. Yep, she thinks, that was a good move.

Confidence returned, she goes for another strike “I wanna see you later. Can I? I know you have your coaching, so after?”

“Yeah, you could meet me there and we could celebrate.”

“Celebrate what?”

Yasha shyly holds her boots “well, the fact that we are girlfriend and girlfriend now.”

“Oh, yeah. What do you have in mind?”

Yasha grins, fastening her boots and looking up at Beau with mischievous eyes “I have a few things at home.”

Beau congratulates herself with a mental hi-fi. With smiles on their faces, they follow a somewhat familiar flow of activities around the kitchen until they leave for their respective classes. That surprised look doesn’t leave Beau’s mind all through the morning; it is like a badge of honor, her proof she is doing something right with this relationship.

It’s midday when Beau arrives at the ice ring. Zadash isn’t as a cold town as Rosohna, so hockey isn’t the go-to sport for teenage girls by any stretch, but Yasha manages to get enough students to at least introduce them to her passion. Beau spots her close to the goal; with protective gear and skates, Yasha towers over them even when crouching down, almost double in size just for being in her element. It reminds Beau of that one time she's seen her play once before, an image she can't quite forget; Yasha on ice is the most erotic thing Beau can think of to this day. In the blink of an eye, this soft spoken, often shy, socially awkward goddess of a woman turns into a strong, entirely too intimidating, ruthless barbarian, wielding her stick like two-handed blade against her enemies whom she strikes down with rage. The strength, the violence, the conquering; Beau feels her legs tremble as she sits down by the stands. It's not the best train of thought to have, with too many children around on a Saturday, but, one of these days, she'll get Yasha to fuck her on the ice.

Yasha notices with a wave Beau just as practice ends, removing her helmet with a thousand mega-watt smile rarely seen in her Xhorhasian face; her hair sticks to her forehead and sweat drips down her temples, cheek red with cold and exhaustion, her eyes piercing as always, mismatched and mysterious. Beau gulps at the sight, taking calming breaths watching her leave for the lockers.

Some parents show up to pick up their kids as she waits for Yasha to change and one woman takes notice of her.

“Hello. You teach at the New Academy, right?” Beau nods; she’s still in her work clothes, the new Soultress Academy, Widowgast founded, Zadash branch crested blazer hung on her arms “My name is Claudia Sheed, I must have seen you at the assembly. My nephew attends. Miss Lionett, of Lionett Wine, am I correct?”

Beau cringes involuntarily at the mention of her still estranged family. Ever since she started at the New Academy, her last name had been a most valuable selling point, even though she and Caleb struggled with using it at all. Unfortunately, it brought money, investment and, most importantly, students, so Beau’s learning to resist her denouncing instincts and use the surname that brought her so much sorrow to do some good.

“Yes, I am. You said Sheed? Oliver Sheed?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

“Ah. Nice kid. Great with numbers. He should be on Master Widowgast’s short list in a year or two.”

Claudia smiles “How wonderful! We were a bit worried, our family not so influential ourselves.”

That’s it, Beau thinks to herself, that’s why using her name was worth it. Beau smiles too.

“Don’t worry. We value students on their individual achievements. One hundred percent. We work semi-independently for that very reason. It’s kinda badas… Awesome.”

Claudia gives her a nod of understanding just as Yasha comes closer, saying her goodbyes to her students. They rush around them, some parents trading words with their kids and one girl lingers close to Claudia.

“Oh. Hey Beau. You've met Claudia” Yasha notices.

“Yes, we were talking about the Academy, but I did catch the end of your practice. Kinda of exciting” she shouts the next words “More blood next time, ladies!”

The parents around scoff wide-eyed and Claudia chuckles lowly. In fact, some moms look appalled, gasps rising; Beau regrets immediately telling that joke.

"I'm sure she didn't mean" Yasha says, calmly, to everyone around.

"Oh, no, totally. Child endangerment is not cool, neither is violence, or blood" Beau goes for the save but it doesn't seem to stick. Claudia seems amused by it all.

“It’s been a pleasure, Miss Lionett” Claudia beckons.

“Nice to meet you too, Sheed. Stay safe.”

The Sheeds leave, Claudia still chuckling slightly, and they stand alone. Beau apologizes.

"Sorry, I got excited. They got really mad.”

"I thought it was funny" Yasha says in her signature bland tone, though her eyes show a glint of amusement. Still smelling like fresh soap and deodorant, Yasha catches her in a tight hug and pulls her closer for kiss. She feels very soft, in her signature dark grey cotton shirt and sweatpants, with a vibrant yellow beanie resting on her head. Beau sighs into the comforting embrace.

“You’re too good to me.”

“Am I, girlfriend?”

They share another smile and a kiss. It seems like the perfect day it’s coming; Beau’s got a girlfriend, it’s Yasha, she’s hot as fuck, they have all day free to whatever, she got to brag about her job, there’s no way it can get any better.

Yasha phone rings. When she sees the caller, Yasha frowns deeply, Beau notices worriedly, but Yasha is already breaking their hug and walking away.

“Give me a second, I gotta take this.”

There’s a hushed conversation, Yasha talking louder on occasion, until she finally returns. That rage gleam in her eyes is in full effect, her breath stuck in her throat like she’s holding back her anger.

“So…” Beau says, testing the waters.

“That was Fjord. I have to tell you something.”

She then proceeds to tell Beau about the lawsuit. Since Zuala died, Yasha had look for a way to move on, still she couldn’t find a healthy way to deal with her frustrations. And there were some many frustrations; in one fell swoop, she’d lost her family, her friends, her love and the place she called a home. All because her coach, the infamous Sky Speer, believed in this soul-breaking, backwards-ass, dangerous style of training her protegees. There was a lot of verbal aggression and overworking their bodies past the point of breaking until Yasha and Zuala said enough. They defied everything they knew, their way of doing things, the chain of command, the all-encompassing unspoken rules, and were punished for it. Pursued out of their team, out of the entire hockey community, out of her own country of Xhorhas, they stood together against all the abuse and yet, as a final blow, the strain it had taken on their bodies finally took Zuala’s life, the fight lost.

For years, Yasha had avoided dealing with it. She chose to wander around, trying to serve others the best she could, but it only made her feel the more hollow. Working with Mollymauk at Stormlord Analytics, she’d found the Mighty Nein, a group of lost souls much like herself who were struggling to find a place of their own. There were ups and downs; she’d met the Iron Shepherds, Molly died, she’d come across Obann and with him her worst impulses took over, but, incredibly, bit by bit, the simple act of living made the wound in her chest smaller, the pain more manageable, her bonds to life itself stronger.

When she found her footing again in Zadash, she struggled with the lingering ache and, finally, discovered she needed resolution for the injustice she’d suffered, that Zuala had suffered. So, with the help of their resident lawyer Fjord, she decided to sue her coach as well as entire League for complacency; her bet was that she would use international law against them, once she played overseas in the Xhorhas National Hockey Team and was now was a citizen of the Empire, to maybe get them on something akin to forced labor and human rights violations. It was a long shot and that phone conversation came with news that, after long analysis, it was most likely going to fail.

Yasha speaks of her disappointment, voice barely above a whisper in certain passages, and Beau hears her with as much cool she can muster. The whole thing was so unfair and unfairness touched to the very core of Beau’s soul, so much she’s ready to scream and take on the fight. Before she can, Yasha finishes with:

“I knew it wouldn’t work, Fjord said it would be better to go after the bitch, but I was too ambitious. I shouldn’t even have tried.”

Beau is racking her brain to come up with something what to say when Yasha beats her to it again.

“Can you come with me? Fjord said we can talk about it now and I don’t wanna be alone for this.”

“Sure.” It’s all Beau can say. Truth is, she sucks at comforting people, saying the right words not her forte at all; she’s best with actions and right now Yasha needs her to go with her, so that’s what she’ll do.

They arrive at the Wildmother Inc. building shortly after and Fjord greets them to his office.

“Beau? You’re…”

“Yasha wants me here. I’ll… hold her hand, you do the talking.”

Fjord nods and they all sit to hear about the news and what can be done moving forward. As it turns out, not much. Besides going after only one of the culprits in state court, the chances they’ll so much as get a trial are slim; going after everybody who was guilty was too time consuming and expensive as well as a political and public relations nightmare. Even seeking a motion against the responsible coach was costly, an uphill battle that would lead Yasha to gathering statements form all her former teammates, friends, family. All in all, it wasn’t going to be easy.

During all this, Yasha stays mostly speechless, asking some questions and assessing the situation. At the end, she breathes and says:

“We haven’t had lunch yet. Is there a cafeteria or a vending machine?”

“Oh. Why didn’t say anything sooner? I’ll call my assistant and she can order anything you like.”

Fjord moves to reach his phone when Yasha stands up abruptly.

“Is she outside? I’ll talk go to her.”

As soon as he nods, she walks out with stomping strides, leaving Beau and Fjord behind, dark cloud hanging over her head.

“Ooof. That was a conversation I wasn't looking forward to. How are you, Beau? What are doing here anyway?”

“We’re dating, she’s my girlfriend now and you ruined our celebration” Beau says, absentmindedly, eyes lingering at the shut door.

“What?!” Fjord’s stern lawyer persona goes flying out the window, his voice rising a full octave in excitement.

“What what? I thought you knew! Jester and Veth knows so I’m just assuming everyone does.”

“Nobody tells me anything! Are you serious? I’ve been waiting for this for so long! No more third-wheeling so you guys can talk like people.”

“What? You didn’t do that.”

“Come on. You two are the worst. You specifically, you completely shut down every time you’re alone with each other.”

“I…”

Beau thinks back to the years gone by and, really, it was true. Whenever she and Yasha got alone, she lost all ability to flirt, stuck between remaing respectful when all you want is to jump the bones of the person before you and being considerate to someone grieving a wife. Someone who honestly said her heart was broken and would never heal and is now looking for justice, or revenge, or both, in her name. Suddenly, today’s ease flies out the window too, replaced by insecurity and a tinge of jealousy.

“Yes, you.” Fjord continues “I’m so happy for you guys, I wanna see you at Cad’s birthday, you guys...”

“Yeah, yeah, I dunno, man. Help me here.”

“Help you how?”

“What do I do about this? Do I agree with everything she says as a good girlfriend or do I say what I’m thinking as a good friend? Because this suit is total bullshit, but I can’t tell her that. You know how she is, or better, how she isn’t about Zuala. She barely talks about her and…”

“Don’t you…” Fjord gets up his chair, filled with outrage, and the move interrupts Beau a second before Yasha opens the door. All three are caught like a deer in headlights, Fjord gulping loudly. Thankfully, Yasha is the first to speak.

“You’re lunch options are garbage; you should eat more meats. Anyway, I need some time to think about... everything. Beau...” Beau stands up immediately to follow along, but Yasha halts her with a hand “Beau, I’m gonna need a raincheck. I have a lot to think about and I would like to do it alone.”

“Are you sure? I can go eat with you, we don’t have to talk about it” Beau says in a pleading tone she doesn’t recognize herself.

“That’s ok” Yasha smiles briefly and dejected “We’ll talk later. You too Fjord, I’ll tell you what I choose. I need to think about this.”

And with that, she gives a disheartened wave and leaves both Fjord and Beau dumbfounded. Fjord slaps his friend across the arm.

“You should go after her. She should not be alone right now.”

“Ouch! You heard her! What do you want me to do, disrespect her wishes?” Beau slaps him back two times and he recoils in greater pain.

“Ouch, ouch! I don’t know! She’s your girlfriend! What you can’t do is say the lawsuit is bullshit.”

“I know! I won't but you know it is! Going after the whole league is crazy and dangerous when she can report the coach and stop the abuse now! And why now anyway?! I don’t get it.”

“That’s not the point! It’s her trauma, she decides when she deals with it! And you, you know you can’t say shit like that! It’ll dismiss her feelings, her hopes, her expectations. You keep that shit to yourself!”

They both look at each other, breathing heavily from all the yelling. Beau sits down with a huff, Fjord following suit.

“I just…” Beau starts “I don’t know how to deal with this. I know it’s her shit and I wanna help, but I’m gonna say something bad. I can’t do thoughtful and nice. I’m just not gonna say anything.”

Fjord sighs, leaning over his desk.

“I don’t think that’s the answer either. I get that you relate thoughtfulness and niceties with property, and that you relate to your family, but there’s a reason why we are polite with each other. It’s made so we don’t offend anybody, to not make people feel bad by accident. And I know…” Fjord holds his hand to stop Beau’s silent protests “it happens and you’re kind of the expert in it but you don’t wanna do this to Yasha, do you? To us? To people you love?”

“No, I don’t.” Beau crosses her arms, in a petulant teenage way she slips back into every time she feels cornered “I wanna help. Make her feel better. She was almost crying before and I’m just so angry.”

“Yeah, it sucks and you can’t do anything about it but to be there and not fuck it up even harder. Just… she has to know she’s not alone; you have to tell her that. Think that it is not for you to agree or disagree but to be there.”

“I know...”

“And you’ll try to talk to be considerate and help the best you can?”

“I guess…” Beau rolls her eyes for no reason; she knows he’s right and she’ll do what’s right for Yasha, despite having to follow his advice to do so.

Fjord softens his eyebrows for a second, big brother energy flowing through them.

“She has been warned, you know. I did just that, it sucked. You just have to, I don’t know, talk about grass or go to the fish market or whatever you do when you’re alone.” He raises his hand again, pausing another protest “I know, I know you're doing it, don’t worry, you better be climbing her like a tree.”

Beau smirks “It is pretty great actually. She’s super strong and she can actually push...”

“Ok, ok” Fjord stops her “I don’t need to know. Just go get the girl.”

Beau smiles, getting up to give him a complicated handshake they can’t seem to forget even if they no longer do it several times a day.

“Hey, wanna grab a beer some time, man?”

“I’ve got a completely cramped schedule for, like, the next few months. I’m sorry.”

Beau nods and leaves, with a bowed head. When she passes Fjord’s assistant, she gets an idea.

“So, I was talking to Mr. Stone and he asked to book drinks after work some time these next few weeks. If you could just check if he has an opening…”

“Well, I have good news. A client just called cancelling, if you’re free next Wednesday at seven?”

Beau raises her eyebrows “Sure, yeah, that’s good.”

“Under what name should I book it? Miss Nydoorin’s?”

“No, no. Put it under mine. Ugh…” Beau considers for a second and the best she can come up with is “Tracy.”

“Just Tracy?”

“Yeah. He knows who it is.”

Later, as it turns out, he doesn’t know, or remembers, actually. He throws a little fit over it for a second, chastising her about coming up with a client no one knew anything about, before sitting down; it's the first time he relaxes in two weeks and the drinks wash down all his worries. He ends up thanking "Tracy" for the meeting after all.

Back in her apartment, Beau agonizes over what to text Yasha, a surprisingly regular thing in her life now. Going over the text, she thinks about what Fjord just said and how to convey the “I’m here for you, but if you don’t want me, I get it” and it comes out something like this:

_Hey, Yash. I get it if you need some time. When you feel like it, I’m here for whatever. XO_

Beau cringes at the juvenile farewell, but it already sent, so whatever. So, she waits for a response that doesn't come well into the afternoon; she walks back and forth on her living room, probably making a path on her low-quality wooden floor. Yannick comes over with another drink at some point and before she knows she’s sat in his and Jan’s living room, drinking something too strong to be tasteful, but the burn feels good. It takes her back to the old times, her usual coping mechanisms kicking in, relief almost instantaneous. She feels more or less relaxed as she felt this morning, but this time her tongue is bitter, unfeeling and her arms cold. A young woman, some twenty something thing, dressed provocatively, looks at her longingly and Beau has to play with her straw to avoid the girl’s gaze and her own thoughts.

When her phone buzzes, Beau jumps at the chance to leave the room. It’s Yasha, she notices with a smile.

“Hey” Beau answers.

“Hey” her voice sounds tired, but restless “I wanted to say thank you for going there with me today.”

“Oh, hey, any time. I’m all yours. All time, any time. Yeah, girlfriend.”

Yasha chuckles on the other side of the line; Beau hopes her slightly slurred words are coming at least a little clearer on the other side “Are your neighbors having a party?”

“It’s Yannick. And Jan. Mostly Yannick. He asked me to try a drink and now I can't feel my tongue.”

“Wanna come over tonight? It’s quieter. No party.”

Beau is stunned for a moment with the invitation but recovers quickly “yeah. I would like that very much.”

“Good. See you.”

“See you.”

Beau dances in place, glad for, one, for not blowing up everything for getting drunk while waiting for her girlfriend in a crisis and, two, for being asked back into said girlfriend’s arms so soon after this afternoon’s events. She goes back down to her apartment to put herself together, drinking some water and brushing her teeth. When she gets there, Yasha meets her at the door in comfy cotton pajamas; her eyes drift down to barely covered breasts instinctually and Beau has to clear her throat to refocus.

“Hey."

“Hello.”

She welcomes her in with open arms, bring her forward with a kiss and some lingering uneasiness on the back of Beau's neck leaves immediately. They sit on the couch and Beau notices a whiskey tumbler already poured by the bookcase. She raises her eyebrows at that.

“I had a drink too” Yasha explains “I was trying to sleep and Veth's whiskey is supposed to help. But I think what's missing it's you.”

Beau's alcohol-riddled mind takes over for a bit "You can call me any time to sleep with you, baby."

Yasha chuckles, blushing slightly. “You are very cute when you get tipsy, did you know that?”

“What? I object! You are the cute one here!”

They laugh and it's the perfect exit for their shared awkwardness. They talk about nothing for a bit, Yasha downing her whiskey and giving Beau a most refreshing glass of water. They move onto the bedroom eventually to cuddle, Beau secretly enjoying being the little spoon for the night, and sleep takes over Yasha as soon as she lays her head on the pillow. Beau takes a while longer, listening for the suburban dogs and crickets and admiring Yasha’s black out curtains. When Beau wakes up the next morning, Yasha is missing from her arms. Instead, she is sat on her dinner table with a laptop and some papers; she smiles at Beau’s sleepy face and too large borrowed pajamas.

“Good morning.” Yasha greets her.

Beau gives her a peck on the lips in return and drags her feet to the kitchen; she notices they mainly spend time on her apartment and things are not so easy to find here, in this middle-class nightmare of cupboards and cabinets. Yasha notices her confusion with a smirk and goes over, hugging Beau from behind and grabbing a cup from the cabinet above. Beau rolls her eyes, but accepts it, turning around to lean against the countertop. She moves against her and they share a long, sensual kiss. Still dazed, Yasha steps back to look into her eyes.

“Thank you for yesterday, I don’t think I would've been able to sleep without you.”

Beau’s heart beats a bit faster, but she already knows her answer “Yeah, whatever you need, I’m here. I'm with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yasha is a u-haul lesbian don't @ me


	8. Feral Business

“Yeah, whatever you need, I’m here. I'm with you."

Yasha closes the distance between them, landing a hot kiss on Beau's lips that’s lustful, indulgent, animalistic. Yasha's hands travel down her sides to grab onto her ass and Beau relishes in it, blindly setting down the cup on the counter. With this distraction, Yasha pulls her closer, grinding their pelvis together, and Beau gasps, grabbing onto her shoulders for support. Her legs are already threatening to give out and Yasha keeps on grinding, stealing the breath out of her. They break when there’s no air left.

"You really like getting your hands on my ass, huh?" Beau pants.

Yasha smirks, avoiding eye contact, but hands pressing harder "You have a great ass."

Beau grins, her own hands moving to grab on Yasha's neck and pull her eyes back to her face.

"You have a great ass too, baby. Wanna be my girlfriend?”

Yasha rests her forehead against Beau’s “Only I if get your ass all to myself.”

“It’s all yours.”

Yasha grins back, charging forward for another breathtaking kiss. She hoists Beau onto the counter, spreading her legs and stepping between them. Beau immediately locks her thighs around her waist, nails raking down strong, defined shoulders and arms. In turn, Yasha ruts against Beau, face ducking down to nip onto her throat to leave a trail of marks across her collarbones. The fact that Beau’s wearing her too-large-for-her-slim-body t-shirt makes it even easier, allowing Yasha’s lips to suck down on her uncovered breasts, sucking down on luscious dark skin.

Beau moans, hands burrowing on dark locks once again “Take me to bed, come on.”

“No, you’ll wait” Yasha growls.

Beau whimpers, one hand on the counter holding on to dear life. Her torture continues; Yasha seems hellbent on driving her crazy, moving back and forward between sucking on her neck and kissing her lips. Their teeth clink together, sinking into her lips and Beau keens louder, Yasha smirking viciously. Suddenly, Beau feels herself being carried to the bedroom, Yasha’s strong thighs holding her up so easily it’s like she’s taking a leisurely stroll. She lowers them both onto the bed slowly, crawling up to the pillows and cradling Beau’s head so she lays comfortably; Yasha’s still smiling, all teeth and flushed cheeks, as she undresses Beau, who is herself trying to breathe even though her heart is racing and her legs feel like jelly.

“I wanna see you too” Beau whines.

Yasha nods, eagerly, and takes her pajamas off; as usual, she’s not wearing any underwear and Beau can’t resist but to sneak a thigh between her bare legs. Instantly, Yasha moans in her ear, holding Beau by the hips so she would stay still. Beau grins at her and Yasha just shakes her head at her cheekiness.

“Come on, Beau, you know I’m sensitive. And there’s something I would like to try today.”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. What is it?”

Yasha blushes, getting up and going for the dresser to the side. Beau gets a great view of her ass and inadvertently slips her hand down her own legs. After rummaging through one of the drawers, Yasha holds up a harness and a dark purple dildo.

Beau’s mind short circuits and she whispers “Shit.”

“Do you not like it?” Yasha asks, with disappointment clearly showing in the face.

“Oh, baby” Beau keens, spreading her legs and showing her playing with herself “I guess I would like that very much.”

Yasha pants heavily at the sight, expression turning somber and chilling. She kneels on the end of the bed, sets the harness aside and slips her fingers in between Beau’s, gazing into her eyes with an overbearing intensity.

“You’re going to drive me insane” she grits through her teeth.

A shiver travels down Beau spine as she watches Yasha dive down, licking Beau’s torso navel to sternum. She then moves her fingers in time with Beau’s own; it’s a bit of a mess, knuckles and juices twisting around each other but they find a rhythm, with Beau working on her clit and Yasha with two fingers inside. Their movements speed up, Yasha still biting on to Beau’s neck, hitting that sweet spot every time and closer and closer to release Beau gets.

Yasha watches intently as she moans and sighs, all the way to the edge, until the very last second, when she grabs Beau’s hand and yanks it away, keeping her body in between her legs so she can’t shuffle them together. Beau’s eyes shoot open, trying to understand why she stopped, and she’s met with Yasha licking both their entangled hands, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Yasha, what the fuck?”

“I said you would wait, and you will.”

Another shiver travels down her spine, causing an embarrassing whine to leave her lips and Beau is still trying to acknowledge how deep her daddy issues go that those words felt so hot and demanding when Yasha holds her arms above her head and whispers in her ear:

“I’ll give you something to do while you wait.”

Beau stutters a breath as she watches Yasha climb up her torso and land with her spread legs right in front of her eyes; before she knows, she’s licking her lips but Yasha pulls her focus upwards with a finger under her chin.

“Be nice and you won’t have to wait long.”

Beau scoffs, making Yasha sink her fingers on her top knot and yank her forward. However, she’s met with that delicious taste and her urge to savor kicks in; her hands wrap around her thighs and Beau sucks and licks Yasha’s lips with all her fire, indulging in exploring the deep parts of her. Yasha tries, at one point, to direct her head by pulling on her hair, like they did before, but Beau holds back this time; she looks up at Yasha’s half-closed eyes and winks, shifting to suck on her clit so abruptly Yasha has to release her hair to keep from falling and squashing Beau under her thighs. She answers with a grunt, breathing heavily and leaning forward; she sits up and looks at Beau with an unfamiliar pleading look. It’s all it takes; Beau stops digging in and follows Yasha’s moans and growls down the finish line.

Yasha shouts as she comes, sitting back down on her knees but trying to not put much pressure on Beau. There’s a pregnant pause as Beau cleans a long, wet string connecting her lips and Yasha’s until Yasha climbs down, huffing and puffing.

“You’re bad” Yasha grunts.

“You like that about me” Beau retorts with a smirk.

Yasha heaves a “stay still while I dress” and gets up, taking the harness with her; her legs are slightly wobbly, and she mumbles angrily under her breath.

Beau shuts her eyes for a moment, glowing on her high kinks, still slightly frustrated with the denied pleasure and extremely aroused with the prospect of Yasha fucking the shit out of her with a strap-on. There’s a dip on the bed and a pair of hands slide up her legs, thighs, sides, breasts, arms, all the way to her hands; when opens her eyes she finds Yasha, licking her lips and diving down to suck on her neck once more.

“After the stunt you pulled, you’ll come when I tell you to, not one second earlier” Yasha’s tone is grave and low.

“I’m not very good at this, babe” Beau quips back “I actually like getting off so I don’t…”

Yasha interrupts with a harsh bite to her shoulder and Beau shouts in pain; wet heat rushes down her legs instantly. With a white smirk, she soothes her tongue over the bruising mark and shifts to Beau’s earlobes, nipping and sucking.

“Then you better get better at it, or there’ll be consequences.”

Beau keens in place again; this time, it’s a clash between her natural instincts to resist authority and the prospect of punishment sounding so pleasant all of the sudden. She’s removed from her thoughts when she feels a pressure between her lips; Yasha’s moving her hand between them, lining up the strap-on, while looking into her eyes with crippling sincerity.

“Can I?” she asks, voice still low and dangerous, but with an underlining affection.

Beau nods and feels the blunt tip move forward; truth is, she’s so wet already from Yasha’s teasing and eating out that it slides smoothly, steadily and Beau feels that warm feeling of being filled to the brink she likes so much. As it turns out, the one Yasha’s wearing is just enough to stretch her but not enough to hurt and this level of care and insight brings a toothy grin to Beau’s lips. She then notices Yasha panting heavily above her, grasping onto Beau’s lifted arms and bringing them over her own hips.

“Let me know if it’s too much.”

And with that, Yasha moves her hips slowly, both letting out a positively pornographic moan at the same time. Her thrusts speed up gradually, hips gyrating in sensual waves that flood Beau with pleasure. It gets louder and wetter, slapping sounds across the silent house, and Beau can no longer hold back her high-pitched cries every time Yasha bottoms out. When she it gets too loud for her own ears, she gasps:

“I’m… I’m gonna, I’m gonna…”

Her pleas backfire and Yasha slows down, breathless and sweaty, coming down to kiss her; it’s a soothing kiss, languid and tender. Beau huffs in frustration but Yasha just smiles and runs her fingers over Beau’s brows, clearing some of its sweat.

“That was better, very good. Can you hold on a little longer?”

Beau just grunts back and Yasha chuckles again. She proceeds to flip them over, holding her by the hips until Beau can hold herself straight, straddling her thighs.

“Ride me?” she asks, an almost redundant question at this point.

Beau sighs, too enthralled by her dissonant kind fury that she just leans forward and braces herself on her palms against Yasha’s shoulders. She rocks her hips slowly, everything feeling very sensitive from this angle; she’s like a string pulled taut so tight she can burst at any moment. Yasha, on the other hand, looks almost the same as this morning, except for the short breaths, thin sheen of sweat and, most absurdly, the quasi feral look she has on her face. Her hands join in on the movement, guiding Beau’s hips to help her go up and down; it’s a sluggish dance, one which has Beau holding back from coming when it’s too much and Yasha igniting the fire again by leading them back up.

To her credit, Beau limits her whining to moans and whimpers. After too many minutes to count, Beau is ready to explode and Yasha’s finally start showing some indication of ending this sweet nightmare; she pulls Beau harder, pushing her hips up in tandem, speeding up the thrusts to an unbearable pace.

“Come with me now” Yasha begs, words breaking and wretched.

With glassy eyes, she moves Beau’s fingers to her own throat, but Beau can barely pay attention to what’s happening to properly hold her. Yasha then sits back up, changing their angle, and Beau’s vision clear a bit; she finds it in herself to focus on grasping around Yasha’s neck to bring her clearly desperate partner along with her. There’s a moment of tension when Yasha’s eyes roll back on her head and her hips stop thrusting. She wails, crushing Beau’s lower back with her fingers and it is all it takes for her to follow suit.

They hold each other through it, trading wet kisses and sweet nothings until they cool down. Beau whimpers when Yasha pulls out, landing with a flat back on the bed. Yasha cuddles up to her, one leg over her hips, chin tucked under the other’s shoulder.

“What did you think?” Yasha asks, in a low but content voice.

“I think I’m very lucky to be your girlfriend.”

“I think so too.”

“Shut up.”

Yasha giggles and they hold each other closer.


	9. Agreements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the angsts for now, I swear. It's the quarantine
> 
> So we're gonna pretend this chapter was always like this. Ok, everybody on the same page? Thank you

Beau takes one more look at her watch. It's eleven, so by now most guests must've arrived, food being served and gifts exchanged. It's eleven, so she has been stalling for the past forty-five minutes.

She changes outfits, does dishes she never does, gets a little liquid courage in, all to avoid having to perform the dreadful task of introducing her girlfriend to her friends for the first time. And it is a definite first for Beau, for in the seven years they have known each other, her friends were never properly introduced to a girlfriend, mostly because she never had one. The closest she'd gotten was a fling with a girl from Uthodurn, but she was too far away and Beau just wasn't cut out for a long-distance romance. And now she has to do this "I have a girlfriend" thing with Yasha, which feels ten times worse.

It's not like she can’t hide behind her inexperience again, not with Yasha.

So, the pressure is on, yet it is, surprisingly, not coming from their mutual, often meddling friends. For their part, her friends have been uncharacteristically helpful these last few weeks with the dating part, Fjord giving some good advice last Wednesday and Veth and Caleb, even Jester, seeming fine, rather excited, with the prospect of them together. Still, there's a little voice in the back of her head that says that it all could change once they saw them together. Maybe when they see how bad she is at this, and how Yasha deserves better. This insecure, unsettling feeling crawls under Beau’s skin and she wishes she could stay in this bubble of a sea of soft kisses and hot sex she and Yasha have made for themselves for a little longer. 

Nevertheless, she must go; it's eleven thirty-five and people will start wondering where she is soon.

Caduceus' birthday party is, like the year before, being held at the Wildmother Gardens, a sort of communal space the missionaries shared whenever they were in town to meet at the Zadash headquarters. It's beautiful, idyllic even, a circle of little houses, each with its front and back lawn littered with tall trees and flowers, all centered around a large square with benches, wooden tables, and grill space for the perfect vegan barbecue. Beau soaks it in, strolling up to the venue, and first encounters Fjord and Caleb lingering around the entrance.

"Long time, no see" she announces to the two men she has seen in the last seventy-two hours.

"Afternoon" Fjord answers and Caleb just nods in acknowledgement.

She notices how they’re far removed from the other guests, a primordial kind of social awkwardness taking over them during these unfamiliar gatherings. As her palms sweat with nerves, she doesn’t feel so social either, not today at least. 

"Cad didn't know how much beer to get for a party, so he got everyone a keg." 

Of course, Caduceus is nowhere in sight, but Beau spots Veth and Jester mingling with the other guests, ever the friendly duo. Then, Fjord’s words register in her brain.

"He did what?"

Caleb hiccups, "He ordered too much ale and now we have to drink it."

Beau snorts. Now that she sees it, Fjord and Caleb do look a bit too wobbly for a Saturday barbecue, full tankers held to the chest. Actually, taking a better look, the general vibe of the party reads as derailed at best, dangerous at worse, with people spilling drinks and falling over themselves. There’s a makeshift dancefloor in the middle of the circle, people jumping and shouting with some electro-trance beats, and among the craziness, Veth recognizes her from a far:

"Beauregard is here!"

Jester swerves and squeals next to her, both rushing to meet up.

"Beauregard, have you seen this?” Veth is the first to speak “It's amazing! Everyone is drunk and I can have none of it!"

"Everyone is being so nice today" Jester boasts.

Their excitement brings a grimace to Beau’s face, slightly worried about the recovering Veth, but, all things considered, she looks to be handling in just fine. Right behind them, Caduceus approaches slowly, holding a tray of edibles; he's the only semblance of calm amidst the chaos, though his ever present half grin has a glint of amusement to it.

"Oh, hi, Beau. Glad you could join us."

"Hey, Mr. Clay, happy birthday" Beau singsongs while handing him a bag.

In it there's a tea set with the most expensive tea leaves the local Zadash specialty shop had. She got to taste them once at a fellow Academy scholar's request and, even though Beau is acutely aware that sometimes things that expensive are worse, it turns out it is very good and worth it.

"Oh, you didn't have to, Beau" Caduceus shies away, like he does with any gifts he receives.

"It's the least. I hear I'm getting a keg to myself as a thank you?"

"Yeah" he drags out the words in his mouth "I think I overdid it, but Clarabelle assures me we can make it."

"Oh. She came all the way from the Savalirwoods?"

"There's very little my sister won't do to attend a party."

"Hello, everyone," a soft voice comes from behind them.

A small smile can’t help but take over Beau's lips as soon as the recognizable tone reaches her. Yasha arrives with a bashful wave, fresh from her hockey class and donning her Caduceus-gifted straw hat against the bright sun. Most notably, she's wearing that blue shirt with the not-so-ironic embroidering of the word "Daddy" in yellow across her left peck and it makes Beau suck in a shuddering breath. She waits, watching Yasha greet everybody and come stand next to her. They share a quick look, Beau’s lips fluttering with uncertainty, which drives Yasha to give her a small grin as she leans over and pecks Beau on the cheek, arm naturally curving around her waist.

"Hello, darling" she whispers but the entire group seems to hear it, an audible sigh ringing across them.

"Well, isn't this nice?" Caduceus states, like it's the first he's hearing from this. Beau actually frowns at that.

"Wait, you didn't know?" 

"Well, no. But this is great, it is great."

Yasha shifts on her feet, arm tensing around Beau’s waist. “Wait, who knows?” 

There’s a small pause as Beau scratches the back of her neck. Yasha looks expectantly but the answer is clear as day when everybody shrugs. Jester rolls her eyes like it was so obvious.

"Come on! Of course, we know." Jester squeals, "And, oh my gosh, it's amazing. Look at how good they look together!"

Both wince at her words, still unsure how to deal with this pampering. Beau though catches a cute blush creeping up Yasha's cheeks and it makes her want to tease her girlfriend a little.

"Of course, we look good. Have you seen me? I'm fire. And have you seen Yasha? She's beautiful and strong" Beau's words falters for a second when she sees a familiar arousing gleam in Yasha's eyes at the compliments "and hot."

"Ok, ok" Fjord stops her, looking a bit exasperated at the two "we know, you're both very attractive. We should focus on the matter at hand."

"Matter at hand?" Yasha asks.

"Reaping the benefits of having the sober one order the booze for the party" Beau rumbles, seeking her gaze again and resting on her arm.

For a second, their eyes meet, and they can pretend nobody is there, Beau able to rejoice the warmth of their shared closeness.

“Drinking until we pass out” Beau continues, breathlessly, still entranced “you know.”

Yasha smiles brightly for a second, eyes crinkling. Then she blinks, like she realizes where she is, and her lips shrink to a grin.

"Ok."

And like that, they all go in, filling their tankers and tapping kegs. As it is to be expected, Jester is the one interested in dissecting their relationship, rolling out a full interrogation about their first dates and who kissed who, and it is nice that they are both inadvertently on the same page, comfortable answering with the least amount of details as possible; it’s always been an exhausting task trying to preserve some strenuously kept privacy among these best friends. As for the others, they mostly leave the two alone and just observe, noting with a sassy wink or two, how they move around each other. 

So, by the time they have already emptied enough tankers that her words are slurring, Beau is half-way convinced that her worries were for nothing.

"Knuckle sandwich!"

"What?!" Fjord exclaims at Beau's cry. They've been debating which is the best turn of phrase/expression for the past thirty minutes to their friend’s collective misfortune.

"Yeah, man. It explains exactly what's gonna happen: you gon' get a fist between your teeth."

"But it is so crude. How about 'it's always darkest before the dawn'?"

A crushing boo rings across the table the Mighty Nien finds themselves reunited again.

"That sucks" Beau counts "it's like a two-page essay to get that it gets better."

Yasha states next, in her low voice "I like 'fallen from grace'."

For a second, the whole table looks eagerly. Yasha isn't one to chime in, but something about the party drinks and the babe in her arms might make her more prone to sharing.

"Lucifer fell from the skies when he defied God and with him thousands of angels lost their wings. They lost their favor with God, immortality, eternal bliss in servitude, a place in Heaven. It's beautiful, this. It represents the epitome of loss. Losing what makes you special."

A gasp resonates around the table. Yasha’s religious background wasn’t really talked about, but she did reveal that one time that her childhood consisted mainly of do’s and don’ts to escape the Apocalypse. To sooth her, Beau slips her hand onto Yasha’s and, in turn, she smiles shyly, a stolen moment between them.

"Darn it, Yasha. That's so cool" Jester whines, but her tone quickly shifts to a more brazen one "but I think I have a better one."

"What?" Beau asks.

And, with a suspicious look exchange, Jester and Veth yell out together.

"Fluffernutter!"

Everyone laughs out loud. Beau is still smiling when she finishes her own drink and it's about to consider getting up and getting another one when Yasha slips her fingers on the handle of her tanker and just leaves without a word. She watches Yasha with curious eyes as she serves both their drinks and returns to the table, placing Beau's replenished drink on front of her and sliding a hand to hold on to Beau's upper thigh protectively. To her own surprise, Beau is taken aback by that, this odd thing seeming so natural and domestic-like that it makes Beau hot all over. It’s like she can’t tell if she wants Yasha to keep bring her what she needs or sink into her chair for letting someone else take care of her.

Yasha notices Beau's eyes still on her mid-sip of her own drink and slowly comes closer to Beau's ears.

"Are you ok?" Yasha asks, trying her best to keep this quiet between them.

"Yeah, yeah" Beau breathes out, trying to shake out of it "It’s nothing."

Yasha grins and clutches harder on Beau’s thigh muscles "You told everybody?"

"I mean… Some of them found out on their own” Beau smirks, their proximity doing nothing to help lessen her abrupt arousal. If anything, her inebriated state makes her want to be closer. With a casual smirk, she stretches her arms above her shoulders, so they land on the back of the bench and, without hesitation, Yasha subtly comes closer, leaning on her shoulder with her hand slipping dangerously high on her thigh once more.

“Was-wasn’t I supposed to?” Beau stutters at her plan’s tragic backfiring.

“Yes, I guess. I just wasn’t expecting that’s all.”

Beau clears her throat “Well, I wasn’t expecting you to be serving my drinks either.”

“Oh” Yasha’s back tenses for a second “You didn’t like it? I didn’t mean anything by it. I can get another one if you’d like.”

“Oh, no. Quite the contrary.” 

Beau runs her eyes over the embroidery and swallows, leaving no room for a misunderstanding and Yasha catches the look and smirks, hand sliding lower on her thigh.

“Back to you, baby” she whispers, blushing at Beau’s disappointed gasp.

Across the table, Beau catches with the corner of her eye Caduceus half-cocked grin widening, and he gives a slow nod in her general direction. Shaking out of it, she focus her ears back to Jester's cries.

"It has to be in Common, Caleb! None of us know Zemnian."

"Schadenfreude..."

"No!" The whole table screams and Caleb stops talking with a drunken sigh. Clarabelle eventually comes up to call them up to the dancefloor and from there on the party takes more of a rager vibe as the sun sets slowly against the trees.

That moment with Yasha, though, never leaves Beau's mind and it is not until later that night she can act on it, crossing the threshold into her apartment in between sloppy hot kisses. They're smiling, stumbling forward, and Yasha pushes Beau haphazardly against the door while trying to unzip her pants with numb fingers.

"I can't get these open!" Yasha huffs and Beau laughs.

"Shit. Then let me do 'em. Go sit on the couch."

Yasha stumbles back but pulls on Beau's waist with her hands to maneuvers them closer to the couch. She sits, holding a still undressing Beau between her legs, when an imminent thought crosses her features.

"I have to pee."

Beau grunts in frustration, dropping on the opposite side of the couch, and Yasha laughs, slapping her ass on the way to the bathroom. While she waits, Beau continues to undress, but it was definitely not the best day to use skinny jeans as her own usually deft fingers don’t work as they should.

"Fuck… Hey, Yash" she says when the other returns "that was a good party, right?"

"Yes, it was" Yasha sits and pulls a now finally pantsless Beau onto her lap "I miss hanging out every weekend like that."

"Damn, me too. Cad's got, what, like four weeks before he has to leave again? We can get everyone to do four more of these, so help my liver."

If she thinks about it, while Cad is here, they can have a picnic, maybe slip away to Nicodranas and catch a weekend at the beach. This time, with the two of them finally together, she could even have Yasha against the sand, have her play her something and watch the sunset over the waves. Not that she had ever imagined this before, it’s just a good idea she just came up with.

Yasha laughs again, hands slipping up her thighs, and Beau can already see her with flushed cheeks of a mild sunburn.

"Yes, it would be nice. I’ll miss the last two though."

Beau's drunken mind gets whiplash at those words. Her hands hold onto Yasha’s, grinding her hips to a halt "What? Why?"

Yasha sighs hazily, tipping her head against the cushions "I leave in two weeks."

"What?"

Beau gets up in a haste at the sound of the word “leave”, voice a bit too loud and Yasha sighs again, dropping her now empty hands on her lap.

"Stormlord's said I could transfer to Roshona."

"What?!"

"Yeah" Yasha hiccups "While I gather the interviews for the lawsuit. You know, the sooner I get these interviews the better and they'll let me cover Nationals if I leave now. It's only three months..."

"Three months?" Beau exclaims "You're leaving for three months? How, what, why? Like now? Two weeks from today?"

"Yes."

Beau feels herself start to hyperventilate, in her mind the image of sandcastles crumbling, and Yasha's drowsy and laid-back posture on the couch does nothing to calm her spirits.

"I just-, it's so soon. I thought you were going to get these in like a week then be back."

"Well, they won't let me transfer for a week only."

"Why transfer? Can't you like, take a vacation, or something?"

This gets a rise from Yasha, whose muscles tense for the first time since they arrived.

"I want to get this done with, Beau. I don’t wanna wait."

"Come on? Can’t you, like, think about it? You're going halfway across the world, to talk to people you don't know anymore and with two weeks’ notice, like, that's insane!"

Yasha huffs in place, dodging her judging gaze, and even Beau herself can hear the harsh tone in her words. She should backtrack before it’s too late.

"You know what? We shouldn't be doing this right now."

"I agree" Yasha gets up.

They stand in the middle of the room, back to back, and Beau feels the tension swelling in the room. Her head is still tipsy, sore neck muscles pulling on her strings and Yasha is just standing there, unmoving, statuesque, brimming with an unspoken rage. 

Suddenly, Beau feels like lying down. She walks away, taking her shirt off on the process, and lies on her bed. It immediately feels cold, and lumpy, and on the corner of her eye she sees Yasha hasn't moved, her eyesight trained on the night view outside the window.

"Aren't you coming?" Beau huffs, turning on her side and closing her eyes.

There's a pause, then heavy steps coming closer to the bed and there’s shuffling of clothes and wood creaking. Beau thinks it's probably Yasha opening a drawer, her drawer, where her clothes were kept now that she stays over a lot. A lot has changed since Yasha. Beau herself was always one to sleep with whatever clothes she had one or in her underwear, but Yasha always insists in taking off the supposedly dirty street clothes every night and put on lavender-scented pajamas so soft everything else felt coarse in comparison. 

There's a dip on the bed and the bunched-up comforter is lifted from under Beau, a hand stretching it to cover the both of them. Slowly, she shuffles back, her butt finding a familiar firmness on the other side of the bed and that hand wraps around her waist and pulls her close. All through it, Beau knows she is angry, of what exactly is still a mystery, but when she lies like that, close to the warmth of another she cares so deeply, she wishes she didn't say anything like that earlier. If she had just continued to kiss and undress, they wouldn't be like this, in silence.

An alcohol-filled wave of regret rushes through her, and she feels tears threatening to leave her eyes when the hand holds tighter, Yasha's whole body covering her. It has an almost instantaneous effect; her body relaxes, shuffling impossibly closer in that tight grip, and the uneasiness softens, her own fingers tracing up the hand around her waist. It's a few minutes, but she eventually drifts off, heart heavy but body warm.

Beau wakes up early, after. She knows the sounds of a Sunday morning by heart, though now there is no more sun steaming down the room, eclipsed by a series of recently installed curtains. She gets up, a headache annoying her all through her coffee and exercise. Her jeans on the couch are a nagging reminder of what happened last night and she decides to wait for Yasha so she can apologize until she hears a loud noise coming from the bedroom, something falling to the ground. Leaning over the bed to sees what's underneath, she finds Yasha's backside, and then Yasha.

"Morning."

Yasha straightens up, clutching the phone she just retrieved from under the bed in her hand, and gives Beau a nod "Morning."

They stare at each other for a moment, unsure how to proceed. First, she notices Yasha’s wearing her light grey pajamas, with the tiny shorts and wine stain from when Beau said it was fine having drinks in bed. Her tousled hair reminds Beau of the white-tip dreadlocks Yasha used to have when they first met each other, when they were so sure to work they didn’t even try, and Beau half-grins at the memory, now seeming so far away as the unsaid hangs heavily between them. Thankfully, Yasha takes the lead.

"Do you have something for a headache?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Beau turns around and grabs a few pills in the kitchen, handing them to Yasha with a glass of water. They stay still for a few minutes, neither wanting to speak about the night before. Beau sighs gently, running her hands over Yasha’s forearms.

"Look, I was surprised, that's all. I didn't think it was going to be so soon and not for so long."

"I know. I should have told you before. I got the answer on Friday but we didn't see each other that night and it felt weird to talk about it at Cad's party."

"I get it. Whe- when do you leave?"

"Friday next week. I go after my shift."

"Ok."

They fall silent once more and Beau feels anxiety crawling out of her skin. Her breath probably still smells like beer and there's sweat clinging to her everywhere.

"I'm going to take a shower" Beau blurts out.

"Oh. I'll leave you to it."

Yasha moves closer unsurely and gives Beau a small peck on the forehead. It feels wrong, lacking, and Beau goes towards the bathroom, sparing one look back at the crestfallen Yasha in the kitchen, and shuts the door feeling strangely regretful. When she exits, Yasha's already gone and she sits on her couch, still wrapped in a towel and lays her head in her hands. She'd meant to apologize for saying things last night while fully intoxicated but seeing Yasha in her usual sleep clothes made her forget the fight, thinking that they were already over it. 

If only, but this strangeness lingers so by Wednesday she can’t take it anymore.

Firstly, her day was an absolute disaster. Darion is still all over her about the thesis and she had the worst conversation with this kid’s mom about how if he doesn’t get his grades higher they can’t keep him on the Academy’s sponsorship program. The woman ends up crying and begging, because they can’t afford otherwise and thankfully Caleb steps in to offer tutoring him after class, but she feels like it’s her fault she couldn’t reach him. 

Then she texts Yasha and gets a one-word response, which she should be used to by now since it’s the way Yasha talks normally. Still, in her mind, it reads like they won’t talk about it unless Beau takes the lead. And they should. She shouldn’t have let Yasha leave without talking further that morning and there’s still stuff left unsaid and they have to work things out. They have to work it out.

So, she finds herself going to Yasha’s house before she even registers it because on the back of her head, she feels a too familiar itch. She’s been here before; it’s that time when the other tells her that she’s been too cold, too distant, and that she doesn’t care enough about the relationship. That’s when she’s told they have had it, that’s all they could take, and they leave. She’s not good enough, so they leave. 

She wouldn’t blame Yasha for leaving. Then again, she truly wants their relationship to work and, now, she needs it to work. She can’t lose anymore of her friends. 

“Can I offer you some water? A mint?” the Uber driver ask. She’s young, most likely doing this to get some pocket money for herself for the first time in her life.

“No, thanks” Beau replies and watches the city lights go by. Seeing them rush by, she thinks about doing different this time, storming into Yasha’s house and drowning her in apologies.

"Take me back? I am sorry. I was so bad after the party. It's so frustrating, you know? You keep doing the emotional heavy lifting in this relationship, but I want you to know, I need you to know I meant what I said. I'm with you. I'm so sorry. Gods, why am I so bad at this? I, I'm... it's like, when we were at the party. I finished my drink and without asking you got up and got a new one for the both of us. It made me so happy, like that's how I wanna make you feel, because I care so much about you. Like I never cared for anyone before and I don't know why I'm angry but it's maybe because I don't wanna be without you and I…"

That’s what she’d say. Yasha would be understanding, maybe asking if she wants to break up and she’d say an emphatic “no, never”! They’d kiss and this would all be over; they’d be together again. 

“Hey, Beau.”

Yasha greets her at the door with a basket of laundry on hand. They don’t kiss, not even an awkward peck on the forehead, and Beau drags her feet to follow into Yasha’s service area.

"I didn’t mean to barge in on you like this but, like, can we talk? There's something weird with us."

"Something weird?" Yasha asks, back turned, closing the filled washer.

"Yeah. I don’t like the way we left things, like I don’t know if you’re still mad at me. Cause' I know I overreacted, and I was wrong. Like, I said I was sorry, I thought we were over it, but clearly…"

"No, you didn't."

Beau's mind stops for a second. Yasha turns around, arms crossed.

"No, I didn't what?" Beau asks again.

"You didn't apologize" Yasha’s voice is even, empty of emotion.

"Well, I’m sorry. I suck at this."

Yasha shinks in place, wrapping her arms tighter around her own waist “That’s ok. I wasn’t mad at you.”

There’s a pregnant pause and Beau sees Yasha struggling to find the right words, much like herself. Beau’s throat is closing, she can’t let her end things now. No, she has to say something, has to do different.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to go.”

“You don-…”

“No. I mean, I don’t care if you go. I mean, I care. I’m scared of you leaving, I guess.”

Yasha tills her head to the side “Why?”

“I don’t know. I’m pretty sure it’s called co-dependency or something, but like, I don’t know what to do without you. Like, if you want to break-up, I guess, but, like I’m sorry.”

Yasha uncrosses her arms, leaning backwards on the working washing machine behind her, “You want to break-up?”

Beau shakes her head. “No. I don’t know. It’s weird, I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

"What?" Yasha slams her hands on the washing machine behind her. Her low voice is a notch above a whisper, yet carries the strength of a shout "We have one fight and you’re done? Is this… all that it takes?"

To Beau’s utter confusion, Yasha is getting mad now and she doesn’t know why. She thought they were done, that Yasha was done "I don’t know, isn’t it?"

"You can’t do this, Beau.” Yasha’s rage comes out in a snarl "You can’t give up so easy because you don't know. You can't do this in this relationship. And you can't do this to me. I won't let you just walk away like you did with those other girls. You have to try it with me!"

Beau is speechless. Yasha's outbreak is so alike to the ones she’s heard before; one more time, she’s not doing enough, she’s not enough. Beau blabbers the first thing that comes to her mind.

"I thought I was, Yash."

Yasha breathes heavily, raising her voice to be barely audible over the sound of the machine pulsing behind her.

"You, you don't understand. You can't go away like this, like this was nothing, like you stop it, go back to what it was before without me at any time. I, I can't take it. You have to… With me."

Beau comes closer and Yasha doesn't scream at her, which is a good thing. Instead, when Beau reaches with her arms, she takes her wrists and stops her from touching, hands hesitant where words are lacking. She wants to ask what she should do, how to be different this time, how can she stay, but it’s not what Yasha wants, needs, to hear now; not what she needs to say now.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn’t apologize” Beau whispers back “I’m sorry. I’m trying to figure out how to do this, but I realize I hurt you in the way that I did. So, I'm sorry. And I care about you, so much, I want get your drinks for you…"

"I'm sorry too..."

"No, Yasha..."

"Let me speak. Please.” Yasha finally looks up and confesses “I'm very sorry too of how I acted. I should have said something and… The thing is I've waiting for you for so long. But I won't anymore. I want you with me. I need you with me."

Yasha waits, holding her gaze and Beau reads the truth in them. She’d been overthinking this. Her whole melt down was because Yasha was going away and she wasted precious time together agonizing over how she was going to be without her. Because she didn’t want that, she wants Yasha and now she knows what Yasha wants too. She wants her, and probably as bad as Beau wants her. They can be together.

“Ok. We can do this.”

Yasha breathes between closed teeth, reluctant to be convinced. So, Beau pulls on her restrained arms and Yasha’s hand clench further, her eyes wide. Beau then pushes, grabbing onto her shirt.

“I’m with you. Me, fucking disaster me. Shit-show me. Ha, I suck at this, I don’t have all the words, but I’m yours. I’m not leaving. And you…”

Beau pushes on her again, reaching for her lips in a sudden and euphoric kiss.

“You got me! You want me, you got me! You already had! I’m with you! You’re… You’re with me!”

Beau pushes once again and this time Yasha catches her lips, hands releasing to grab on her neck. The washing machine rages while tension rises and breaks, their kiss getting faster and harsher with all the pent-up pressure. Beau knocks over the empty basket when Yasha pushes her against the tile wall while she tries to hold on Yasha’s waist and they kiss until there’s no more oxygen between them, no more words. When they run out of breath, neither wants to move away, breathing in the smallest space separating them. Beau laughs breathlessly.

"Woah. That was a lot we needed to let out."

Yasha smiles, cheeks flushed bashfully "I’m, I'm not very good at holding back my anger. It boils over easily."

"I see" Beau sighs and wraps her hands behind Yasha's neck too "Wanna go to the beach some time?”

"Yeah? Sure. Only if you promise we never go to sleep angry again."

“Done.”


	10. A Dangerous Chase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this time, with feeling

Yasha grins and pulls her closer once more; they’re so close already that Beau barely has time to close her eyes before her mouth is assaulted with kisses. It gets messy real soon, the washing machine banging while they eat each other up, spit coming out of the corner of their mouths in between bites and their hands tangled in each other’s hair a touch too tight. Yasha takes this moment to pull on Beau’s bun until her hair is flowing free and then grabs all of it and pulls again until Beau’s chin is raised, and her throat is clear for biting. Beau grunts, grasping Yasha’s shoulder for support, and her hips move at their own accord, somehow matching the same rhythm as the washing machine shaking next to them.

Yasha grunts back, feeling every time Beau’s humping reaches just the right angle and moves to encircle her wrists and move them from her shoulders to the wall behind. Beau sighs, as it makes it harder for her to react at Yasha’s sucking on her neck, so she pushes ineffectively against her hands, whining in that high-pitch embarrassing way she does when she doesn’t get her way. Hearing this, Yasha pulls back, still holding her wrists, and looks at the state her girlfriend is in, with wild hair thrown over to one side, purpling bruises on her neck, spit running down her mouth and chest heaving. So, with a mischievous grin, she runs her nails down her wrists and watches as that wrecked face twists as Beau’s eyes close and mouth opens in a silent scream, brows furrowing in pain and arousal.

“I’m so turned on right now, it’s insane” Beau whispers breathlessly, eyes still closed and head leaning back against the wall.

“Let me.”

And so, Yasha tugs Beau onto her feet and pulls them to the bedroom. They run, trying to avoid corners in their haste, hands interlocked during the whole way there. Once inside, Yasha pushes her onto the bed, taking her own shirt and bra off in one fell swoop before straddling Beau’s waist. Beau’s immediate reaction is to hold her in place with hands on her thighs, leaning over to share another heated kiss. Beau’s hands move at a pace of their own, smoothing over jeans-covered thighs to the bare midriff of her girlfriend, which she explores with care. Her fingers finally reach breasts, and she hears Yasha moan above her, massaging and pressing on soft muscle until she feels her nipples harden impossibly quick. Above, Yasha tries to reach Beau’s pants, but keeps getting sidetracked and their height difference means Beau’s lips find themselves lining up directly to her boobs and she can’t think when they’re being mouthed like that. 

It's too hot, she’s too far gone already and desire compels her to take back control.

Beau’s startled for a second when Yasha takes her wrists and pins her to the mattress but can’t bring herself to complain when Yasha’s lips captures her in another bruising kiss. There’s a shuffling above her as Yasha frees one of her hands while holding on both her wrists with the other and Beau feels her sweatpants come off with a harsh tug. Yasha deliciously scrapes her outer thighs when getting her underwear off, but finally she lays her mouth over her navel and Beau thanks the Gods that her shoes came off too when she sinks her heels into Yasha’s back. It elicits a grunt from Yasha, who moves to spread Beau’s legs apart with her torso and slips a hand down between them.

“You’re very eager, did you know that?” Yasha growls, feeling her with a finger moving up to circle over her clit.

“Yeah” Beau moans and adds, not-so sarcastically “All for you, Daddy.”

The word makes Yasha whole body tense, eyes rising to find Beau’s bratty grin, and she tightens her hold on her wrists as the other hand finally slips inside with two long fingers. Beau’s back arches off the bed at the sudden intrusion and she moans. Then, Yasha pulls her fingers back, running them over her thumb like she’s testing something, and leans back, releasing her hold on Beau’s wrists.

“Move up the bed and get naked” she shoves her wet fingers in Beau’s mouth when she opens her mouth to retort “Don’t make me say twice.”

And then she gets up. Laying there, Beau huffs in frustration, straightening her back to see where Yasha went and she sees her across the room tying her hair, in front of her dresser. Beau shudders, knowing very well it is no ordinary dresser, because in that second drawer is where Yasha keeps her toys. Yasha looks briefly over her shoulder.

“Wrists on the bed, above your head.”

The words snap her out of it, making Beau undress as quickly as she can; this kind of reaction, of desire and devotion overcoming her instinct to disobey orders, only Yasha had gotten from her in all her life. It sort of frightens Beau how quickly she gives in, willingly lying down in wait while she keeps her wrists above but she trusts Yasha so much that she doesn’t even thinks about it anymore. 

Beau sneaks a peak over her own naked body when she feels the bed dip and finds her girlfriend stalking over the bed, Yasha’s mismatched follow her every move, glints of rage and wanting. She notices Yasha’s wearing a strap-on with her favorite dildo, the one Yasha wears when she was feeling self-indulgent. That one has a hard base for grinding, in a deep blue tint and impressive size, fitting her girlfriend like a glove while looking equally amazing.

“Damn, Yasha” Beau breathes out and Yasha doesn’t even deems her with an answer before pulling her by the knees and spreading her legs.

“You’ve been very bad. I want you to be good now”, Yasha grumbles into her neck, grinning at Beau’s answering gasp.

Then, Yasha runs her hands inside Beau thighs, teasing her slim muscles and finding some leftover slick rested there. She moves her hips forward and Beau feels the head push against her, cold with lube and hot with Yasha’s warmth. It is big, so it takes some time to do the proper stretching and, this time, Yasha is less patient than usual, grunting into Beau’s hair when she has to wait before moving another inch forward. Her frustration is hot and adorable at the same time, her gaze shifting feverishly back and forth between Beau’s eyes and where their bodies meet. 

When she’s almost bottoming out, her patience seems to run out and she thrusts all the way up. Beau shouts, but before her mind can properly clear, Yasha is already pounding into her again. It’s fast and hard, Yasha not totally focused on a particular direction, but just hitting and hitting again and Beau squirms under her thrusts. Her neck twists away at the force of it all, but Yasha holds her neck with her hands, turning Beau’s head so she looks at her. Beau’s hands immediately fly to hold onto the thick biceps around her face. By the look Yasha gives her, however, it wasn’t the right call, and so Yasha leans down and bites her lips harshly, drawing blood, until Beau releases her hands back down the bed.

They rut into each other, Yasha releasing pants Beau can’t tell of exhaustion or anger, rolling her hips in inconsistent bursts. The whole thing is so fast and heavy that Beau is hardly keeping up with the surges of pleasure that take over her and she feels that complete release creeping up on her, but faster than ever before. Every now and again, Yasha’s thrusting finds that sweet spot inside Beau with such intensity that she bites her lip to stop herself from coming. 

“Bab-, baby. I’m so close, do- don’t stop.”

Yasha smiles, biting onto Beau’s shoulder to stop herself from groaning too loud. Beau cries out her name at that while, softly, Yasha touches her forehead to Beau’s, staring into her eyes, while her hands spread her legs wider and up her shoulder. Beau sucks in a breath, already knowing what’s going to happen, as Yasha sets her feet on the bed and starts a series of long and hard plunges. They reach so deep that Beau can no longer speak, eyes rolling back in pleasure. It fills her, taking over her insides and her clit screams at being ignored until the pressure finally explodes. Suddenly, it all comes crashing down in waves and Beau screams her pleasure into the heated air of Yasha’s bedroom.

There’s silence and a moment when Beau’s mind is just blank, blissfully ignorant of anything else other than this moment. Soon, she starts noticing how the crickets outside have stopped chirping, but the washing machine keeps rattling, her musings interrupted by the unexpected movement of Yasha’s hips above her, as they take to a slow, almost dazed pace. It feels very slick, the sound of Yasha’s toy plunging in and out as it stretches in different directions carelessly and Beau feels the wetness of a tongue over her breasts. Yasha’s licks are sloppy, teeth grazing too close to a bite to be soothing. On second thought, it grows more painful, Yasha biting and marking her upper torso in bruises.

Instinctually, Beau goes to squirm away again, but this time, with the way her numbing legs are arranged, one against Yasha’s shoulder and the other crushed under Yasha’s weight, she can’t. Instead, her whole body seems stuck in this position of submission, her untethered hands rendered weak by the force of her orgasm, so much so she can’t raise them, only grab faintly at the sheets. Still, the stings of pain have her arousal growing steadily and she sinks further into the wet mattress.

Eyes closed, Yasha continues her slow kind of torture, now running her nails into Beau’s scalp into a scorching kiss full of tongue, the grinding start to pick up swing again. The sharp thrusts return, and Beau feels them tenfold, so much more sensitive after her release. For her part, Yasha fills the room with grunts as their teeth clack with each rut, chasing her own ecstasy as one hand slithers its way down their joint hips and a few gasps escape her lips. Her brows furrow in frustration and Beau blinks to clear her sights, noticing the frustration the other’s in.

“Come on, baby. You got this. Ta- take it, come on,” Beau urges her on.

So, she arches her back and brings their chests closer together, rubbing their nipples with what movement she has. Yasha whimpers at it, sinking her forehead against Beau’s hair and breathing in, letting her hips get into a faster, more consistent pace and Beau sighs, feeling pleasure fill her again, and she grinds back. Soon, they’re back to moving against one another, seeking mutual release. Groaning achingly, Yasha’s the first to get there, almost suffocating into Beau’s hair in the process. Beau follows her with a couple of her own thrusts up, finally reaching with her hands to grab onto the still shoulders of Yasha’s form frozen above her.

Yasha eventually recovers her wits and nods at Beau before withdrawing, both sighing as they part. Though Yasha gets up to remove her harness, she doesn’t come back; instead, she sits on the edge of the bed. After a couple of seconds, Beau rises on her elbows to see what’s going on.

“Hey, Yash.”

Yasha startles, lost in thought. She doesn’t turn back, instead training her eyes on the floor.

“Oh, hey, Beau. Are… Are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah” Beau sees Yasha’s hunched over self and worries “Are you ok?”

“I don’t know… Did I… Hurt you?”

Beau tries to reach out but then realizes she can’t really; her legs are numb and her whole body is sore, bite marks all over her chest and neck. Somehow, there’s blood on the pillow next to her face, probably from where her lip split, and the bed is soaked.

“No” Beau starts “I mean, a little. But I can take it. You know I like a little pain.”

Yasha turns to see her, avoiding her sights at the mess on the bed, and sits next to Beau, leaning back against the headboard. She goes for Beau’s hand, and she gives them gladly, Yasha nursing them both inside her two hands. Still, she hasn’t looked up, and Beau waits until she sighs.

“Are you sure? I think I went too far. It was too much.”

“No. No!” Beau exclaims “You didn’t. I would have told you if something was wrong. It was all very good.”

Truth is, Beau can’t find a way to explain how she likes to get overwhelmed sometimes. How it is like her system reboots when she can let go and just be. And maybe it is not strictly healthy but from time to time she needs this. Daddy issues, right?

Yasha breathes and faces Beau at last, her eyes mournful and no longer filled with that glint of rage “It’s just… I was so angry. I’m not good when I’m being angry.”

“Hey, hey. It’s all good.” Beau waits and slowly Yasha relaxes her shoulders, still massaging Beau’s hands into her hands. A question lingers on Beau’s mind and her words come out unsure “Are we ok? Are we still fighting? We’re not breaking up but like are you still angry at me or something?”

Yasha lets out a shy smile “We are ok. I accept your apology. If you are ok, of course.”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine. Feeling stupid for not talking sooner. You know, you’re leaving soon and I don’t wanna waste time we have before I have to go three months without one of these,” Beau gestures to her collar of bruises around her neck.

Yasha chuckles “you can visit. Or I can come one weekend.”

“Not good enough. Now climb up. I’m gonna eat up you, but you have to get to my mouth ‘cause my legs don’t work.”

Yasha freezes, crushing Beau’s hands into her own.

“I’m joking” Beau lies and lays back, hands moving behind her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> best supporting character goes to: the washing machine


	11. Reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't happy with the last two chapters so I rewrote some of them and now we're back on track.

Beau shivers, clinging onto her coat. Rosohna is much colder than Zadash at this time of the year and she should have known better than to just take whatever was closest to the door. Firstly, because it was her haggard double-sided Cobalt coat, which by now had seen better days, and secondly because the sleeveless fashion it’s not going to be enough for Fall-like, pre-Winter winds than rush by the window. 

The car stops and Beau nods to the driver, paying him through the phone app, and gets off, taking her suitcase with her. There’s an unlocking sound and the gate right in front of her opens, revealing Yasha in a full black reefer coat with collar made of deep blue faux fur. In this grey-scaled landscape, Yasha fits in like a glove, blending into the stern scenery with her ever present gravitas, while Beau shivers too colorful blue.

“Hey,” Yasha greets her with a small smile, opening the gated door and taking Beau’s hand. “Wow. You’re freezing.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Beau shrugs, always trying to hide her discomfort, “I just hate this weather.”

Yasha nods and looks up to the skies. Like a typical Xhorhasian day, the sky is covered in clouds, some dark and some pale white, barely letting any light out and giving the town this permanently hue of night, even during the day. 

Beau clears her throat, the humidity in the air clinging into her pipes in a less than pleasant way, and Yasha snaps out of her reveries, leading them inside.

“You are wearing your old coat” Yasha notes.

“Yeah. It was lying around.”

Yasha nods and they walk inside, Beau shuffling inside her coat restless. Ever since their last conversation, or more accurately, fight, Beau has been going back and forth between putting that behind them or feeling this uneasiness under her skin. The last week they spend together was utter bliss, and she caught herself wanting to promise Yasha everything and more, treasures and sweet nothings. And then she saw Yasha’s back turned to her at the airport, and her heart filled out with a deep sorrow, like something was wrong.

“That’s ‘cause you care about her, dummy.” Jester rolls her eyes, poking Beau in the arm, “You don’t want her to go.”

Beau plays with the food on her plate. Jester, Veth and she had this brunch thing every month or so that usually starts out all fun and innocent and eventually leads up to all kinds of shenanigans. Lately, with her quarter life crisis in full swing, it was easily the day Beau most looked forward to every month, though, this time, her friends notice her disinterest.

“Yeah, that’s probably it.” Beau lies, “Now, what are we doing after this?”

Jester and Veth look at each other.

“Beau,” Jester puts her hand over Beau’s, “It’s okay to miss your girlfriend.”

Beau shakes her head. She’s thinking about the fight still, how she screwed up, like, so bad. She’s still doesn’t know what instinct made her thing that they were over when everything was going so right, why they would give up what they had at that point and go back to being just friends. Anyway, they made it up, but then Yasha left and now, all the way in Xhorhas, she’s probably thinking back on it and realizing how bad it was and thinking of leaving her every day that goes by. She should be here, they should be together, so Beau could make up for her mistake.

“I dunno. I’m a bad girlfriend.”

Veth slams the table, “Beauregard, do not talk about yourself that way! You’re doing fine. You talk to her every day, right?” 

“Yeah, we talk.” Beau huffs, undignified, “Work and stuff. She likes to call me, more than text.”

“See?” Jester wiggles her eyebrows, “She likes your voice.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Thinking of it, Beau likes Yasha’s voice too. It’s always calm and contained, smooth and a bit uncertain. It says so much with so little and it’s so much like Yasha, like what drew Beau to her. Since the beginning, it was Yasha that made this whole trying dating for real worthwhile, but Beau had lay back for a second and watch everything go to shit. So, her misery is her own fault but if she steps it up, keeps her promise this time to try harder than all the other times, all the other girls, it should work this time. It has to, because it’s Yasha.

“I can be a good girlfriend, right?” 

Jester rolls her eyes again, “Duh! Of course.”

“It’s just like being a good friend.” Veth adds, “And she likes you already. It’s so easy. You got this!”

So, there she is, going to be the best girlfriend she can, and maybe, just maybe, she can feel like she can do this again, regain that confidence she had those first few days with Yasha, when it felt good, and perfect. Before she blew it. 

She takes a small chocolate from her coat pocket. The package is all wrinkled, but at least it didn’t melt inside.

“For you.”

“Oh” Yasha looks down, taking the small gift, “Thank you.”

She begins unwrapping it as they walk into apartment and Beau is a little taken aback to find that it’s bigger than she imagined by Yasha’s descriptions. Heat turned on to keep the cold out, it was mostly stone, granite, gray as the day outside, except for the windows, which were white painted wood and stainless glass. It reminds her of the Xhorhaus in a way that all Xhorhasian architecture is a bit gloomy and mismatched, old and new existing together, but it misses that spark of that ridiculously tall tree in the backyard that made the Mighty Nein’s shared house so special.

“Nice place,” Beau remarks, dropping her bag while her eyes track Yasha’s movement. Yasha locks the door, hangs the keys, puts the chocolate wrapper inside her pocket, clicks the lights up. Then, absentminded, she stops in front of her.

“Yeah. It has a good heating system.”

She comes closer, slithering her hands over Beau’s waist. Her movements forward are uncertain, and Beau is the one to close the gap; her shoulders drop and she sighs into their kiss, keeping it slow and sultry and warming Beau’s soul with the hope she can mend their awkwardness to each other.

“You’re a good heating system,” Beau mumbles against her lips.

Yasha chuckles and pulls her closer, holding her in an almost too tight grip that Beau had come to relate to being safe and happy.

“I missed your flirts.”

“I missed you.”

Beau kisses her again before the weight of her words can reach her own heart. Her lips are more insistent this time, tongue flickering into Yasha’s, teeth nibbling playfully. Yasha groans, somewhat frustrated, and hold Beau’s neck still, scratching the back of her undercut lightly. Beau stumbles forward, then, grabbing onto Yasha’s shoulders, which immediately triggers a hiss in pain. Beau steps back.

“What is it?”

Yasha looks up to the ceiling, rolling her shoulders backwards stiffly “I work out when I’m anxious and I think I overdid it. These weeks… have been harder than I expected.”

A deep worry takes over Beau, so she pulls Yasha’s face to look at her. 

“Are you ok? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yasha brushes it off, “I knew I would have to encounter some old faces and I thought I was dealing with it ok, but yesterday I couldn’t sleep with you coming over and everything and I kind of couldn’t stop. My muscles sort of locked out this morning.”

Beau shakes her head. She was not crazy to think that there was something weird between them, but now she has something to say about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no!” Yasha interjects, “It’s not about you. I- I got, I get nervous about you visiting me in Xhorhas. I know you didn’t want to come and…”

“I wanted to come. I wanted to see you.”

“I… Are you sure?” Yasha shuffles her feet, stuttering, “It’s cold, and you had to travel for me, and leave your city and everything.”

Beau sees a creeping blush take over Yasha’s face and relaxes a bit. It’s not as bad as she thinks, thankfully, and she can manage a shy and blabbering Yasha. It’s reminiscent of how they were back then, when they lived together here, the whole gang, and they flirted and vehemently denied their feelings; Beau really liked it back then, she was young and it was fun and exciting.

“Are you kidding me? I actually really like Rosohna.” Beau announces, “It’s our town too, where we had our first house. And, people grew to like us here. It’s awesome.”

Yasha smiles, hands wrapping tightly on Beau’s waist again.

“So, you like it?”

“Yeah. Nice place, nice girl, crappy weather. I mean… I can enjoy a good trip down memory lane. As long as you’re with me, right?”

Yasha chuckles and kisses Beau again. Instinctively, Beau’s arms go to her shoulders and Yasha’s hisses again.

“Sorry, sorry.” Beau steps back, “I have to stay away if I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry…”

“No, no. It’s just a bummer.” Beau smirks, “I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself with you in all your Xhorhasian glory. I’ve had that dream too many times.”

Yasha blushes again and it sets Beau’s confidence right back where she wanted. Maybe being a good girlfriend to Yasha means this, being together and understanding, sometimes making a horny comment or two, and that Beau could definitely do. A thought crosses her mind.

“I wanna take you out to dinner.”

“What?” Yasha asks, with a crooked smile on her face.

“I honestly believe it was my mistake to not ask you out when we were living here. I mean, I was in denial and I never did anything about it. So, I wanna do what I didn’t do back then and formally ask you out, for a nice dinner and everything.” Beau gives a small courtesy, “Milady.”

Yasha squints her eyes, trying to understand Beau’s sudden interest in dinners.

“Ok. But I’m the one who is living here. I should take you out.”

Beau shakes her head, “Nope. Too late. Did it first.”

“Ok.” She shrugs, picking up one of the beanies she had hanging close to the door and slapping it into Beau’s head. “You have to wear this if we are going outside or you’ll freeze to death.”

Beau nods, a blush of her own creeping up at Yasha’s casually hot no-nonsense attitude. They take a step outside, and Beau racks her brain to remember the best spots in town. Unfortunately, it’s been like three years since she’d left and all the joints she can think of are either extremely expensive or complete shit-holes.

She tries to buy some time, “Do we have a preference of cuisine?” 

“No,” Yasha shrugs.

Beau kicks herself and keeps going, walking over to the more tourist-y part of town in search of a semi-decent meal. Yasha puts her arm across her shoulders at some point, and they stroll in the chilly air with a semblance of date. On the main avenue, a corner restaurant catches her eyes, a small but cozy place, with the menu outside written in chalk and bottles of wine on display. It was probably the wines, but something about it makes her stop. 

“What do you think?” 

“Looks ok,” Yasha answers, eyes darting around the avenue, indifferent.

“Ok.”

They walk inside and the waiter takes them to a table. It’s a nice place, in green and deep burgundy, not too crowded for a late afternoon, and Yasha’s eyes search around the place for something, settling down after a while. Beau keeps her eyes on her, trying to figure out what was that about but then Yasha snakes her hand over the table to hold on Beau’s and both their shoulders relax. Shortly after, the waiter comes back over, handing over menus.

“Hello and welcome,” he has a thick accent and watchful eyes. “Can I get you anything to drink as you choose?”

Yasha looks at her and Beau feels like impressing her all through the evening.

“I feel like it we can start we something lighter. What do you have south of Moorland? White, fresh, young?

“Oh. We have a white, very refreshing, a local must have, and a rosè, from the coast, more sturdy, but sweeter.”

Beau grins, winking at Yasha.

“I like sturdy and sweet. Two glasses, please.”

“Right away.”

The middle age man leaves and Yasha shifts in her seat, shyly. They keep their hands interlocked, but the awkwardness returns, silence taking over the space between them. Beau opens and closes her mouth a couple of times before deciding to focus on the menu, noticing Yasha nervously shaking her leg under the table while looking outside. Eventually their drinks arrive, and they place their orders. When the waiter leaves again, Beau raises her glass for a toast, but Yasha is already sipping hers, hand fully circling the glass like it was a tanker.

“Wow.” Beau chides, “What about a toast?”

Yasha chokes on her sip, sputtering, “Oh. Sorry. I’m just, I’m not used to dates.” 

That makes Beau take a second. Now that she thinks about it, even after almost two months as girlfriends, they haven’t gone on dates, per se. There was that first one, at the carnival, but after that they mostly stayed in, or briefly hung out in supermarkets and shops before returning home. There was no asking about siblings or third date rule or flower bouquets. There was no romance and she can’t for the life of her remember why.

“This is really good,” Yasha timidly adds.

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, Yash. Why don’t we go on dates? I mean, why do we stay inside so much?”

Yasha stops her fidgeting and thinks. Her eyebrows crinkle and she snorts, like the answer is clear.

“Because of work. I work from home on my computer and you write your thesis and your students’ papers. We…” Yasha pauses, stuttering, “spend nights together and early mornings.”

Beau still finds it odd, “But don’t you think we should go on dates? Like take a road trip or go eat ice cream or something?”

“If you want, sure. I don’t mind.” Yasha’s voice is clear and Beau can’t understand.

“You don’t? You don’t want me to give your flowers, or chocolate, or order wine and dinner?”

“I do like flowers, but not disposable ones. Real ones.” Yasha takes another large sip of her wine glass, letting some drip on her chin and cleaning it with the back of her hand, and Beau finds it way too captivating, “You have that weird look on your face.”

“What look?” Beau leans closer, interest peaking.

“Like you’re thirsty and I have a glass of water.” 

Beau looks away as a warmth colors her cheeks. She was caught red-handed, ogling Yasha even though she technically can now, being her girlfriend and everything. Though Beau should be worried about how they just had a fight and she still can’t figure out why, yet one look at Yasha and every worry goes away. It’s like her confidence is back, like she can be herself again, and it makes her feel like she’s been going through relationship thing all wrong. She should take her out more, give her more gifts, lay petals where she passes, romance everything to keep her. 

“I really do, don’t I?”

Yasha chuckles then pulls her hand away. “Actually,” she shrinks her shoulders and winces, realizing a bit too late that it hurts, “Can you give me a minute? I need to make a phone call.”

Beau frowns, but Yasha is already putting her coat back on and walking outside. She watches her through the window for a while, drowning both hers and Yasha’s drinks and the waiter shuffles back.

“I suppose we should wait before I bring your meals over? Another glass, madam?”

Beau keeps watching and the waiter clears his throat subtlety.

“Oh, right.” Beau shakes her head and turns her eyes to the man, “Let’s wait some. Tell me something. Do you have anything that says ‘I like you very much’ better than a tiny piece of chocolate wrapped in foil?” 

“Oh, is this a special occasion?”

“No, not really. I mean…” Beau’s eyes track back to Yasha as she finishes her call and her girlfriend smiles through the glass, waving before opening the door. Beau sighs breathlessly, “Yes, it is. It always is.”

Yasha reaches their table and the waiter offers to pull the chair with a small smile. She shuffles uncomfortably but accepts it and Beau laughs, going for her hand across the table.

“I can bring your meals now, yes?”

Beau nods at the waiter and he takes his leave, winking at her all too knowing. Too perceptive for her own good, she sees him making a few changes to the scenery around them as they wait; when he returns with their plates, he also places a lit candle on the table with a special flurry. Suddenly, the whole restaurant is no longer mostly lit by lamps but by candlelight, a soft, soothing song playing slowly on the speakers. At some point, another couples walks in and sits across the room, and the waiter shows off his changes to the ambience a little too conspicuously. 

Thankfully, Yasha doesn’t seem to notice and continues their conversation.

“You said you wanted to go to the beach? Are you stressed too?”

Beau sighs, “I don’t wanna get into it, but I don’t think I have it in me to finish this master’s degree.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Darion has incredibly high standards and it’s never been easy keep up with them, but, shit. I’m good where I’m and they keep making me work harder. Like, with the teaching and everything, you’re probably the reason why I haven’t imploded yet.”

Yasha looks down her plate, “I- If you think so. I wish I could help more, but I’m not really a good reader.”

“Don’t worry about it, babe. Hey,” Beau waits until Yasha looks up. When she does, Beau has to stop herself from shying away too, because those eyes burrow into hers with such intensity she barely gets the words out. “Thank you. I really need to get out of the house.”

Yasha smiles and opens her mouth to say something but faulters. It scares Beau for a second, this new look, a promised one, like Yasha was going to ask her something serious. It’s has a finality to it, a certainty, that she freaks out a little bit and just starts blabbering.

“Anyway, we should go out more. Like, this is nice and I wanna show you around. See that pale body on a bikini or something.”

Yasha chuckles lowly, eyes crinkling a little and looking down briefly before smiling at Beau. She has a nice smile, Beau notices, and now she’s not afraid to smile head on, directly at her, and not to the ground or to the side. If she’d dare to guess, she’d say Yasha is happy and that brings her own smiles to her face.

The waiter replenishes their drinks and gives a thoughtful nod towards Beau. She motions a “ok” sign under the table and, not ten minutes later, he returns with a giant piece of chocolate cake, covered in strawberry syrup and a rose made of sugar over it, handing in two forks. Beau’s eyes are ready to jump out of her head but Yasha beats her to the punch.

“We didn’t order this.”

“In here, we know the desserts to be more tasty when they are shared,” the waiter says and curtsies, winking at Beau as her leaves. 

Looking surprised at each other, both try to make sense of this situation, but Beau takes it as a chance to do something of her own. She leans forward and runs a single finger over Yasha’s cheek.

“It’s not a real flower. Do you like it anyway?”

Yasha takes a deep breath and pokes the cake with the tip of her spoon. There’s a lot going through her mind and she keeps frowning her forehead, but she turns back to Beau, at last, voice rich and deep, tears glimmering in her eyes.

“I like it very much, Beau.”


	12. Causatum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the bodyworship chapter, a.k.a the whole reason I started this series.

They go back to the apartment and Beau is riding some kind of high. Between the good wine and almost getting Yasha to shed some happy tears, she feels like this trip is going just fine. All that’s left is some mind-blowing sex and Beau is sure she can keep her girl, except, that is, if Yasha didn’t flinch every time she comes closer for a kiss.

“Sorry,” Yasha steps back and moves forward to the living room. “I can’t. Can- can we sit down?”

Beau sighs and thinks at how bad the pain must be to stop Yasha, of all people, from doing the basics like leaning down to kiss her girlfriend. So, she has an idea and it could totally backfire, but she’s on a row so far, so fuck it.

“How about I give you a massage?” Yasha stops dead in her tracks and looks back at Beau, who continues with a shrug, “Technically I have studied anatomy and I’m an expert in female bodies.”

Yasha chuckles, shaking her head. Beau trudges on, even though nerves begin swerving under her skin.

“You can stop me if it’s not good, or if it makes it worse. But I swear I can be gentle.”

“Oh, can you?”

“Yeah.” Beau grins and slides her hands up Yasha’s arms. She sees her girlfriend relax a little.

“Ok,” Yasha drags the word, shaking her head side to side.

Beau chuckles and tells her to undress and lay down. If she’s going to do this, she’s going to do this right. So, she reluctantly averts her eyes of a half-dressed Yasha and goes to the bathroom, rummaging for something soft to lathe over her. She finds a lot, like, about fifteen different lotions and for a second she thinks they might belong to somebody else but a few she recognizes from Yasha’s place; for a seemingly simple gal, Yasha has the nighttime routine of a movie star, with moisturizes and creams even though she wears as little as a stitch of makeup. That, with the notable exception of the battle-paint’s worth she used to apply over her eyes before going into the ice in her hockey games.

When she turns back, having chosen some scented oil she has no idea where it goes in the human body, Beau finds Yasha sitting down on the bed, arms crossed like she’s trying not to care about being naked.

“Yash,” Yasha looks up when she hears her name. “You wanna lie down? Face first?”

“Yep. Sure.”

Beau suppresses a grin as her very nude girlfriend lies down back on the bed. Her back is tall and large, taking over half the bed with the entire width of her shoulders and Beau licks her lips before slathering oil on her hands and settling back on her knees over Yasha’s lower back. She takes a deep breath, actually remembering her classes on muscles and tendons and thinks back to what she knows of sports’ medicine and that yogi bullshit that somehow infuriatingly works.

Fingers oiled, she pushes her hands up her spine, spreading her fingers and applying very little pressure to find the worse spots.

Yasha groans, so Beau pulls back slightly, focusing on the worst ones on her shoulders. She massages slowly, with circles then powerful touches with the pads of her fingers, over and around the knots until she feels them, and Yasha beneath them, relax and give in to her hands. She moves on to her waist, using broad strokes now, with her palms as they slide over the larger muscle groups and over her sides. It’s amazing how toned she looks, a variety of muscles, small and long and hardened, like a biology model or a marble statue. Except this one, she can touch and feel and slithers her palms over them. 

She reaches the thighs and takes her time going over each one with spread fingers, then folding her legs to elongate calves and the upper thigh. She trails the green and blues veins that fill her pale skin, following the lines where the tendons meet under the knee, and she wants to bite it so hard her mouth waters. They twitch when she goes too high, too close to her buttocks, and Beau smirks and teases her way back down again.

All the while, she listens for Yasha’s whines, but none comes through. Her girlfriend breathes deep and steadily, even when she takes a painstaking care of her feet and ankles, running her fingers down the soles and over the heels. She climbs back up, letting herself indulge just enough on her way back to her shoulders and spreads her arms, pushing on those defined biceps and triceps that seem to get larger and harder every time she lays her hands on them. A shiver runs down those strong arms and Beau takes her time slipping a finger from palm to shoulder.

There’s a hitch on Yasha’s breath and Beau stops, running her fingers through her hair so she can look at her eyes. Sadly, they’re closed shut.

“Is everything all right?”

Yasha nods and sighs, “My pecks hurt the most.”

“Oh,” Beau moves back and grins, one eyebrow shooting up.

Yasha releases a low chuckle and rolls around under her thighs. Beau does her best not to stare as Yasha’s breasts get into her purview, but it gets harder when she tauntingly thrusts slightly up just to brush over Beau’s spread legs.

“You’re feeling better, I guess.”

Yasha chuckles again at Beau’s tease, grabs her hands and pulls them to her shoulders, nodding with a question on her eyes.

Beau can’t help but to resign herself with this torture and goes on with her massage, moving over Yasha’s shoulder and around her boobs. She hears a faint whimper when her fingers dip too close to her throat, but she moves on to the abs and sides, dolloping oil all over her torso. At some point, she moves Yasha’s hands up towards herself and kisses her palms, stretching biceps, triceps, forearms, and wrists, in twenty second periods of tensing pressure. Yasha’s eyes must have closed some time before that, because when Beau seeks her sights all she finds is a quivering frown and a lip bite too cute to be intentional. 

So, she dives down and bites Yasha’s ear lobe, pleased when her girlfriend lets out a quick whine and stands back again.

“Why’d you stop?” Yasha opens her eyes and moves her hands to Beau’s thighs around her waist.

“Do you want me to keep going? ‘Cause I can do more than just massage.”

Beau flashes her best smirk and waits while Yasha’s lips twist from a smile to a grin to a thin line.

“How many girls have you used that line on?”

For a second, she has to think about it. Yasha’s not the first girl she’s offered or given a massage to employing the same or similar words as to the ones she’s using now, but if she was being honest, Yasha’s the first one she wouldn’t mind if she told her to stop right now. For her, at this moment, just helping Yasha get her relief is enough and that’s not something she’s ever done or felt before. 

Yasha keeps breathing heavily and her fingers clutch harder onto Beau’s thigh.

“I- What do you wanna do?”

“What do you want me to do?” Beau quips back, laying her hands over Yasha’s on her thigh.

Her fingers relax under Beau’s and she straightens her shoulders back against the pillows and flinches again, the massage not enough to totally ease her pain. Her thighs shuffle, twisting closer together and Beau tries to take her out of this miserable state of not knowing how to express what she’s feeling. 

“Do you want my mouth?”

“Yeah?”

“Is that a question? Tell me.”

Yasha looks away, and then back to Beau, “I like your mouth.”

“Oh, yeah? And with my mouth you don’t have to move at all, you know that. I’ve got you.”

Yasha keens slightly and Beau smiles, leaning down to kiss her soft and sultry. She runs her fingers over Yasha’s hair and chin and cheeks and then feels a pair of hands slide down to her ass. A whimper escapes her lips, and she has to step back before she clutches those shoulders too hard, too eager to go down and get to work. Still there’s something she needs.

“Tell me. I need to hear it from you.”

Yasha closed her eyes briefly and gulps, “I want you to eat me out until I tell you to stop. I want your mouth on me until the pain goes away.”

A rush of arousal travel down Beau’s legs. She loves when Yasha uses this kind of dirty talk, such filthy words coming from a stoic self, so honest and so right. So, she slides down, trailing kisses down her oil-lathed torso, across her breasts and ribcage and abs. Yasha’s body has always been so amazing, how every muscle is long and strong, soft and supple, designed to perfection. Her skin is not free of blemishes, with faded scars and marks but it is impeccably smooth, bones protruding against a cover of chiseled flesh, and almost hairless from her eyebrows down. Beau wouldn’t think of herself to enjoy a bare-shaven woman but Yasha’s creamy surface makes her take a closer look to every detail, imperfection, leftover baby hair and trace them with her fingers and the tip on her tongue.

She gets to her thighs and spreads them apart slowly, Yasha’s hand reaching to hold on to her head as usual but it recedes. Instead, it stops over the hipbone as her knees bends and she spreads herself further, a move Beau takes as a sign of utter trust and surrender for her part. So, Beau takes a deep breath and settles between, looking up to find puffy pink lips covered in glistening arousal. She runs her face down the inner thigh muscles, feeling the scraping of the recent shave on the sides of her lips as she comes closer, and Yasha grunts from above in desperation. She could tease her further, but her mouth remembers what Yasha tastes like and waters at the sight, making her lick her lips in anticipation. 

She wants to see more, so she takes to fingers to spread Yasha’s lips apart and the softness and smoothness of her body culminates in that sweet spot where her desires lie. Beau takes her thumb and slides it upwards, digging for her clit and gets a wanton groan when she finds it, making the trip a few times over until every expanse of Yasha’s body is as slick as her mouth feels. She dips her chin and dives with a firm stroke of her tongue, the wet sounds taking over her ears as she feasts, feasts until there’s even more slick dripping down her face. Her thumb keeps moving upwards, in a variety of patters, but Beau is more interested in the taste of Yasha, of licking it all, cleaning her up.

Her nose, her chin, her cheeks, get covered in slick and Beau has to fight against a stray hair of her own to keep it from getting inside her mouth. Yasha started quivering a few licks ago, so Beau slides her fingers down and up inside. The moan Yasha lets out is so beautiful Beau stops to hear it, only moving forward when an annoyed whimper follows it. She smiles, a surge of laughter threatening to leave her lips. She shouldn’t feel this giddy going down on someone, but she can’t believe Yasha allows her to enjoy this, she can’t believe how lucky she is.

Then, her fingers slide faster and easier, her entire hand slipping with no friction, so she changes angles, twisting her wrists in time with her tongue above and it triggers an immediate response in the form of a litany of pleads from Yasha. Her whole body shakes and Beau feels Yasha’s insides tightening and pulling for more of her fingers and she wants to give it all. She holds her breath and focuses on diving further and faster, tongue scratching against the freshly shaved skin. Her fingers move against the hindrance and then there’s a moment when it breaks, a burst of wet coats her hands and face and all those amazing muscles tense around her. There’s an inconsistence in their movement, like they all want to shake but can’t at the same time and she watches, and touches, and feels.

She feels more than hears Yasha’s breath faltering, a harmony of incoherent blabbers, in different languages and cadencies, and then it hits her, the smell of the fresh and sweet release of her lover. Beau can’t help but smile, diving once more to slowly indulge in the tiny quakes that rock Yasha’s insides. It’s her favorite part, the lazy enjoyment of another person’s remainder of pleasure and Beau takes her time with ease until Yasha slips her hand down her neck and pulls her face forward.

They kiss and Beau backtracks; this is her favorite part. Her starved tongue laps on Yasha’s lips and matches her slow strokes, the tastes of spit and slick mingling with passion and yearning. Her hands lock under the pillow and she falls on her elbows, abs dangerously close to Yasha’s open legs, but they stay like that for a while, kissing and licking and enjoying the proximity of another. Finally, Beau lets go, landing on Yasha’s chest and holding onto a firm hug, head resting, mind cleared.

Yasha strokes her hair a few times and kisses her on the forehead.

“You’re amazing, Beau. Thank you.”

Beau’s heart swells and she rises on her elbows to look at Yasha’s perfect face. “Oh, you know. I like it too. It’s- it’s my treat.”

Yasha chuckles again and rests Beau’s head back against her breast. Beau sighs, and lets this moment resonate with her; it’s a moment of trust, happiness, love. Maybe that’s what love feels like.


	13. Rime and Reason

Caleb knocks sheepishly before entering. Beau barely notices him, still entranced in her furious scribblings, leg bouncing with an ever-present sense of urgency.

“Hello, friend.” He lays a bouquet of flowers next to her papers. “Just arrived. And it has your name on it.”

Beau rolls her eyes at the tame smirk of satisfaction on his lips. She quickly searches the name tag and rips it. “Well, it’s not really for me. I had to send it here ‘cause I wouldn’t have time to pick it up and go to the airport and finish these.”

“Oh, so you’re picking your girl from the airport with flowers? How romantic,” he teases but the bouncing leg catches his eyes. “Are you nervous, Beauregard?”

Beau sighs, reluctantly willing herself to stop.

“Yeah, kinda. Do you think she’ll like these?”

Caleb looks at the luscious bouquet of red roses framed by delicate white wildflowers, wrapped in gold embroidered paper.

“Are they too cliché?” Beau asks again. “I thought maybe she’d like, you know, lots of color, but that’s all they had for a full bouquet. What do you think?”

He smiles, eyes gleaming like he finds it too adorable that Beau would be so anxious.

“Yes, of course.” He steadies his voice so it sounds soft and encouraging. “Yasha loves flowers.”

“And I have a reservation, dinner, or maybe she’ll want to stay in, I dunno.”

Caleb comes closer and rests a hand over her shoulder. “I’m certain if you ask her, she’ll tell you what she’d like to do.”

It’s a small move, something they used to do, and helps; the weight of his hand calms her down a little.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. You know what? I’m gonna go. No harm in getting a little early, right?”

“Right.”

Beau quickly gathers her things, smushing the papers together, and bolts out of there, leaving a thoroughly amused Caleb behind. A few seconds later, she returns, picks up the nearly forgotten bouquet and leaves.

* * *

Yasha’s flight is due to arrive with a mere ten minutes of delay and all the while Beau has to repeat to herself to chill.

It’s not like they haven’t talked or visited each other in so long, but just the prospect of being able to see, touch, hold Yasha every day makes her knees shake. This restlessness, this anxiety, it’s something new and very odd to think about, especially since Yasha used to leave for far longer stretches of time in the past, but being together changes things. It seems that Beau has a harder time staying apart this time, like she’s growing to need her.

She can’t tell if it is a good or a bad thing yet, but her knees keep shaking anyway.

Yasha’s tired face stands out among the mob of people, a crown of frizzled of black hair after four hours on an airplane seat that was not made to fit someone her size. The tiredness in her eyes lessens when she meets Beau’s and so makes her forwards with a renewed spirit.

Beau tries to come closer, but people keep bumping into her on their way out and she stops; she doesn’t want to hurt the flowers more than her uneasiness already has.

“Hey, Beau,” Yasha speaks first, her gravelly voice steady, still from ten feet apart.

Just these two words have the power to take her breath away. Her “Yash” comes out breathless, in a whisper she can’t tell was even heard.

They get closer, slowly, slower, and a most beautiful smile spreads across Yasha face, until everyone else in the airport disappears and all that there is it’s this moment between them.

When she’s close enough, Beau stretches her arms, presents the bouquet. “These are for you.”

Carefully, Yasha takes the flowers and touches the fragile petals with the tips of her fingers almost reverently. Beau sucks in a breath as she waits until Yasha’s eyes turn to her again, no longer tired.

“These are beautiful, Beau. Thank you.”

And too quickly to even follow, Yasha pulls her in for a long overdue hug. It’s a tight one, the kind they have shared many times before, and still feels amazing. Yasha’s long arms completely encircle her and she can faintly hear the rushed heartbeats. It’s hot, warmth radiating from the long Xhorhasian coat she came with, and it smells so much like Yasha that Beau lets herself loosen up and a tension she couldn’t quite get rid of off just slips away.

* * *

Yasha’s face completely freezes as soon as the first bite sets in.

“So? Jester picked it.”

Yasha chews again, slowly, and immediately sends Beau’s smugness all the way where it came from. Her worries just grow more and more as Yasha keeps chewing and no answer comes.

“How bad is it? I knew putting açai berry on cake was a bad idea, but she said like it’s healthy and earthy…”

“Beau,” Yasha interrupts, halfway through her bite, “It’s fucking amazing.”

Beau’s pride comes back in a rush and the largest grin breaks on her face.

“Fuck yeah! I knew it, no doubts whatsoever.”

Her cockiness is sort lived though, because when Beau takes a bite herself, she’s hit with a strong and unfamiliar taste. She dramatically falls on her hand on the table, gagging and coughing with disgust.

“Holy shit!”

Yasha lowly chuckles between bites and smooths her hand on Beau’s back. For her part, Beau frantically runs her fingers on her tongue like they could wash away the taste.

“You think it tastes like dirt, don’t you?”

“Yeah!” Beau scurries away to find the largest glass of water she can and fills it. “It tastes like dirt and it feels like dirt. It’s got like this pounder-y texture and it sticks to your throat and I’m gonna vomit.”

“No!” Yasha laughs, “Come on, it’s good. It’s an acquired taste.”

“I’m not acquiring anything here. I’m about to unacquire my lunch.”

Yasha laughs again and serves another piece for herself while Beau gets busy chugging a pint of water.

* * *

Beau’s hands sweat into Yasha’s and it’s gross but she can’t help it. The nerve-wrecking wait as the others scholars slowly gather at the auditorium is terrible and she is ready to leave when Dairon finally arrives.

“Hello, Beauregard. I’m half as surprised to see you are sufficiently early.”

“Trust me, I’m surprised myself.” Dairon takes a look up and down Yasha and Beau remembers what she’s supposed to be doing. “Yeah, yeah. Let me introduce you two. This is Yasha, my girlfriend, and this is Dairon, my thesis supervisor.”

“Yes, we’ve met,” Dairon murmurs, with a nod of acknowledgment to Yasha which is promptly reciprocated.

“Yeah. I know you’ve met, but back then you were my teacher and she was just my friend.”

“Oh. That’s a surprise. I thought you were already romantically linked.”

“What?” Beau exclaims in unison with Yasha, who blushes profusely.

“Yes, my mistake, all of happiness to you both. Either way, new introductions aside, how is your presentation?”

“It’s, ah, it’s here. Ready for presentation.”

Dairon’s eyes narrow at Beau’s obvious uncertainty. “I’m sure you are ready to meet my highest expectations.”

Beau assents sheepishly and Dairon stands back, going over the stage to speak to some of the other guests present.

A small pressure on Beau’s hand brings her back to the person besides her. Yasha greets her with an encouraging smile and stretches her free hand to run it over Beau’s shoulder.

“You’ll do great.”

Beau sighs and leans into it, a comfort cozy feeling taking over her at the calming presence of Yasha.

As usual, she takes her favorite way out of uncomfortable situations and settles back with a smirk.

“She thought we were girlfriends. Maybe it was all of our underling sexual tension.”

Yasha chuckles and gives her a peck on the cheek, arms securely around her waist.

“Beauregard! Come forth!” Dairon shouts, and Beau is begrudgingly whisked away.

It’s not too long until everything is ready for her presentation to start. With one last look, Beau spots Yasha in the audience; she nods from her seat, watching the presentation behind Beau come to life and her eyes flicker back and forward as she reads the utterly foreign words with interest.

Just like that, Beau knows she’s got this.

* * *

Beau more feels than sees Yasha’s absence from their bed.

She rolls her legs over the side; she should have seen this coming. Yasha has been weird all weekend.

First, she was hesitant to go to the beach in swimwear claiming people were going to stare at her so Beau tried saying it was because of she was just so beautiful, but it did not take. Then, she didn’t like the tropical heat, finding it too scalding to even be enjoyable, and, as Empire kid herself, Beau couldn’t really argue with that. Now, she’s gone in the early hours of the morning, and Beau knows she has to do something about it before the entire supposedly-fun-holiday trip goes to shit.

“It’s nice this time of day, isn’t it?”

Yasha turns abruptly at the sound, relaxing from her defensive stance as soon as she recognizes Beau. It could be kind of jarring hearing another person so close; out in this patch of sand, Yasha is all alone, with only the waves ahead for company.

Beau sits next to Yasha, eyes on the sea in front of them, still waiting for an answer.

Yasha finally speaks, “I’m sorry. I left a note.”

“I know. That’s how I found you.”

Yasha nods, looks down and runs her fingers over the sand. As usual, she lacks the words to express what she’s feeling.

She ponders, “It’s very soothing, the waves.”

“It is. Especially here. It’s like they’re louder.”

Yasha agrees. Where they sit is a different part all together of the beach; it’s about a mile away from the resort they’re staying, and it has no indication of human interference. There are no lounge chairs, boats on the water, loud music coming from speakers and certainly no people.

After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Beau says, “We can leave.”

“We don’t have to. I- I can…”

“I can see that you’re uncomfortable. And I don’t mind. Fuck this resort.”

Beau’s usual brashness makes Yasha chuckle. Her eyes focus on the sea before them and she assents, “Fuck this resort. And their fucking fruity drinks.”

Thrashing sand all around, Beau shouts at the waves, “Fuck this fucking sand!”

“And the loud music. I should have brought my harp.”

“You really should, put ‘em to shame.” Beau makes like hand motions for a rock harp and they share a laugh. She searches for Yasha’s hand and takes it, locking their fingers in unspoken understanding.

It’s a few more minutes until Beau breaks the silence again.

“Wanna go for a run? I’ll race you.”

Yasha scoffs, “I hate running.”

“You walked all this way!” Beau exclaims as she takes a look around. “We are so far I almost thought you were taken by a siren, charmed into the ocean!”

“I am easily charmed. Walking is different. It’s relaxing.”

“Yeah? I thought you liked to work out to relax. Running is perfect to get your blood pumping.”

Yasha turns to see her for the first time since she arrived. She has an indecipherable look on her face, emotionless yet mysterious.

Beau tries again. “Come on. It’ll be fun. I’m sure we have the same speed.”

“Ok.”

And like that, Yasha gets up, stretching one hand out for Beau.

Before, this sudden change would give Beau a case of the whiplash, but by now she knows Yasha makes her decisions quickly and conclusively.

Beau takes the hand and they both get ready, settling in casual sprinting poses. There’s a pause and a countdown and then both are rushing their way further away for the resort and into the unknown sands ahead.


	14. Between the Lines

They stumble into the room, wrapped around each other. Their skins stick together with a combination of sand, salt and sweat, making every touch feel scorching hot.

“It’s so hot,” Yasha exhales into Beau’s neck, from here she has her pinned down against the door.

“You’re hot too,” Beau responds, craning her neck further to give room to Yasha’s kisses.

“No.” Yasha takes a step back. “I feel hot. I need a shower.”

Beau groans, because of both the distance between them and the mention of shower sex. “No! I hate shower sex. It’s too messy.”

“You? Talking about messy?”

Beau smirks at Yasha’s tease but takes an inconspicuous step forward to tread her fingers into Yasha’s sea-soaked hair. “Trust me, it’s not fun and it is fucking dangerous. You could slip and fall and die.”

Yasha chuckles and lets her head fall into Beau’s hands. She indulges in the soothing motions of this impromptu scalp massage until her chest gets too hot again and she steps back, much to Beau’s annoyance.

“We don’t have to have sex in the shower. We’ll clean ourselves up then have sex in the bed.”

“That’s too long. I want you now.”

Yasha takes a step back and Beau follows, catching up and pushing their chests together. She takes another but ultimately fails to evade when Beau jumps on her, wrapping her hands around her neck and legs around her waist.

Yasha shakes her head, having to relocate her hands under Beau’s buttocks. “I’m going to take a shower, whether you’re on me or not.”

Beau just laughs and shakes her head. With no time to waste, Yasha makes her way to bathroom in large steps and turn on the shower in its fullest.

The moment the freezing waters wash over the both of them, Beau yelps. “Ok, ok. I’m coming down.”

Beau dismounts with a pout and Yasha can’t keep her grin to herself while she fiddles with the water temperature. When it reaches a sensible chill, she turns to see Beau with her hands already covered in soap bubbles.

“See? You’re already washing.”

“This liquid soap is the shit. Look. I can make a mohawk or something.”

Yasha laughs back, removing her bikini top in two snaps. Suddenly, Beau thinks the bubbles aren’t the most interesting thing in this shower.

“Wow. You got tan,” Beau notes, mouth agape. 

As it turns out, the sun broke through the excessively strong sun cream to color Yasha’s usually pale skin with a shine of gold beneath. The change follows the perfect triangle shape of her black bikinis as it trails from her collarbones to her under-breasts and around her torso. 

Entranced, Beau follows with her soapy fingertips the diagonal slopes up towards where they meet behind Yasha’s neck and hears a sigh ring from above.

“You’re gonna make this shower hard on me, aren’t you?”

“Sorry.” Beau shakes out of it, takes her hands off Yasha trembling. “I got lost there for a moment. But no, we are not having sex in the shower. It’s dangerous…”

Before she can finish her sentence, Yasha takes Beau’s waist and flips her around. There’s a whoosh of the water splashing against the slippery floor and the feeling of a hot, tantalizing breath against her ear.

“Then we should focus on getting clean.”

To make her point, Yasha bites her earlobe and Beau shudders. Big strong hands enclose around hers and pushes them to rest against the tiles before her, shoulder width apart, and Beau leans on them instinctually.

“I love it when you get bossy.”

She hears a low chuckle behind her, as well as the sounds of liquid soap squishing on something. There’s a pause and then Yasha’s hands run down her front, the sweet wooden smell of the soap she hadn’t quite picked up yet hitting her with full force. 

This time, Yasha’s not being gentle, calloused hands running in circular motions and skittering close to where Beau wants it most but never yielding. It’s slow torture, the way the soap makes it so much easier to slip her hands over her chest but her remaining clothing keeps getting in the way to the good bits. 

Yasha’s hands disappear for a moment and Beau struggles with whether she should turn around or not. She wants to see, delight her sights in Yasha’s beautiful body, but she wants to be good too. At last, she shuts eyes, head bent.

Honestly, she can’t remember when she got so submissive, but now all it takes is a hint of Yasha’s dominant self to show for her to relent and fully comply.

“Don’t open your eyes,” Yasha whispers and the hands return, this time on her hair, slipping her hair tie off and spreading foam up her roots.

Yasha’s fingers scrape against the freshly shaven sides of her undercut and gather the strands of her hair to tug her head back to meet the sturdiness of shoulders behind her. She melts against it, merging her back to Yasha’s front as the water washes over them.

“I swear, you have the most healing hands.” 

Yasha chuckles at that, fingers dipping below Beau’s trunks until they drop.

“Hands up,” Yasha commands and she follows with closed eyes, feeling more than seeing the removal of her sports bra.

Making the most of the movement, she locks her arms behind Yasha’s neck and pulls her for a blind kiss that ends up catching an ear. 

The sudden crack noise makes Yasha lose her footing and for a second the both have to grasp for the slippery tiled walls. It’s a race to not fall and it almost fails at times but then they finally stop. A bit winded, a bit shocked, but holding onto each other upright.

Between pants, Yasha lets up. “Get cleaned. Then sex,” 

“Yep.”

Thankfully, the rest of the shower goes on uneventfully and in no time, Beau finds herself safely sitting on Yasha’s lap on the bed.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Beau leans in for a kiss.

“So, do you come here often?”

Yasha smiles. “Actually, I’m here on holiday.”

“What? Like, life was boring in the city so you come to the coast for some consequences-free fun?”

“Yeah. Plus my girlfriend likes the beach.”

Beau runs her fingers again on the tan marks on Yasha’s chest; they are so enticing she can’t help it. “I can see why. And where is your girlfriend?”

Yasha looks into her eyes with a bit of a panic expression. Beau nods and displays unmistakable playful smirk so she gets it. Yasha clears her throat.

“Well, ah, she’s, she’s on a boat tour.”

“A boat tour?”

“Yeah. A boat tour. She doesn’t come back until tomorrow.”

Beau comes closer, burrowing her finger into Yasha’s hair for the umpteenth time. “So, we have some time for ourselves.”

“Yes…” Yasha stutters, “You and me.”

Beau ducks down to nibble on Yasha’s neck and she gulps, holding onto Beau’s thighs like a lifeline. Her kisses travel lower, to trace her collarbones, before coming back up to take her lips. 

Their kiss starts out sensual, slow but quickly escalates to a messy and hungry make out session. Beau keeps grinding on Yasha’s stomach every opportunity she can and Yasha scratches her tights in her vice grip. 

Their equally naked bodies come impossibly closer until Beau can’t bear anymore. “Take me, come on. Be rough.”

Yasha sucks in a breath, and runs her hands up Beau’s torso. She handles her harshly, twisting and pulling on her nipples until Beau’s head just falls back in ecstasy. It’s not always they have the time to fully indulge in the fantasy, but if it isn’t Beau’s favorite thing to be treated with a firm hand, in total compliance.

Yasha answers with a whisper in her low voice, “My girlfriend likes it when I’m unrestrained. When I’m honest about what I want.”

Yasha pulls her closer and takes a sharp bite against Beau’s shoulders to make her point. Beau shouts, and holds onto dear life to Yasha’s forearms as a recognizable dampness gathers between her legs.

“And what do you want?”

Yasha bites again, this time closer to her ear, in the place where neck meets shoulder. “I want to take you in all fours, and pounce until you can’t remember anything but my name.”

Beau shudders, frustrated she can’t rub her thighs together. So, she bears down again, spreading even more of her wetness onto Yasha’s chest.

Yasha grunts, getting up and turning around with Beau on her arms. She then bends down and lowers the both of them on the bed until Beau is sat on the bed and she’s standing before her.

“Turn around and spread,” she growls.

And Beau does, almost instinctually. She turns on the bed, settling, on her knees, and spreads her legs as much as she can while still keeping on her knees and before she has to lean on her forearms to catch herself. Her forehead touches the soft sheets and she closes her eyes again in anticipation of what’s to come.

Yasha’s two hands grab onto her hips. They hold a bit too strongly but all Beau cares about is the large frame draping over hers. Yasha easily covers her entire body as she joins her on the bed, and leans down to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Good girl.”

Beau whimpers.

Then it all begins. Yasha’s left hand leaves her hip and traces back down her thigh. It stops between Beau’s legs and just rests, with little to no pressure. To her credit, Beau holds on for as long as she can, rubbing her forehead against the sheets, but the feeling of Yasha’s nipples on her back finally does it and she rubs down.

Yasha’s hand grown stiffer in response. It molds against Beau and follows where the wet is more prominent, circling around but not yet inside.

“Keep doing that, babe. You’re doing great.”

Beau moans at that and keep on grinding. First, she moves her hips in circles, finding a special spot each round that made flashes of light appear behind her closed lids. Then, it got hard to get an edge, Yasha’s hand was all to covered in her slick, so she tries simple thrusts, seeing that it was almost to make those elusive fingers sink into her.

Yasha’s hips join the fray, providing a constant pressure against her ass, and then both their thrusts are set into Yasha’s hand, which by now has found itself crushed against the mattress. 

Beau gasps, drool starting to gather around her lips with the strain of rubbing herself off on Yasha’s hand. She wants to beg for release, for mercy, for something but she can’t find the words. Something about Yasha’s body trapping her on this position makes her feel so warm and unencumbered she moans louder and louder in her delirium. Thankfully, Yasha takes pity on her.

“Do you want my fingers inside?” Beau nods the best way she can with her forehead scraping the sheets. “I need you to say it. Say it for me.”

Beau tries to gather her wits about it but suddenly Yasha’s pressing harder, fingers of the other hand crushing her right hip enough to bruise. She thrusts in strong bucks, without rhythm, and Beau can hear her cursing under her breath with every move of her hip.

“Say it,” she asks again; this time her gravely voice has a hint of desperation.

Beau’s first try at begging is a total failure, a bunch of incoherent sounds punctuated by exhales with each thrust. She tries again, this time managing to remember to turn her head from the mattress.

“Yash, Yash…”

It’s all that leaves her lips but it makes Yasha take a moment, pausing to breathe. She leans her own forehead against the back of Beau’s neck, dragging it to rest on her shoulder blades with a sigh.

“Don’t stop,” Beau raps in an uneven tone. “Please… I need you. Give me it.”

Yasha smiles against her back, and pulls back. Beau sighs at the opposite of what she wanted coming to pass, but at last Yasha’s chest return to press against her. Her fingers soon follow and they slide over and around before finally sinking into Beau with an easy push.

After that, it’s all a blur. Beau remembers maybe the first two times, but then Yasha turns her to face her and it’s all too much. At one point, she finds herself tonguing a straddling Yasha and she’s sure the best way to die would be to drown then and there.

After they holding each other for a while, Yasha sighs longingly and starts to get up.

“Wow, wait.” Beau pulls on her arm. “Where, uh, where are you going? Come back.”

Yasha chuckles and runs her fingers over Beau’s hand. “I have to brush my hair. It’s easier when it’s wet.”

“Do it later. Cuddle now.”

Yasha smirks and dips for one more kiss. “I have to do it now, or it’ll get stuck. I have a lot of hair to get stuck.”

“Yeah…” Beau agrees half-heartedly and let her go. Yasha get up and go to the bathroom, returning with a brush and sitting with her back to Beau.

From where she sits on the middle of the bed, Beau can smell the shampoo and the salt in her hair, the sound of the brush against the tangles enticing with its rhythm and texture. It ends up bringing her back to that mind space she was just at and Beau takes a shot.

“Can… Can I brush it?”

Yasha turns and Beau perches up, on her knees against the dampen duvet. Yasha offers the brush with attentive eyes, her breath hitched, and Beau cast her eyes down, unusually shy before she takes it.

Yasha doesn’t say anything, but she lingers with her gaze for a second before turning her back again. 

Beau shifts forward. She takes Yasha’s half brushed hair into her hands and runs the brush through it, stopping when she finds resistance. She runs a few more times, against the silkiness and towards the undoing of knots.

On her, Beau couldn’t care less about long hair. Hers was thick, she had too much of it, and it took too long to brush and style. Sure, she had a fondness for bows and the many uses of a ribbon, but she would much rather keep it tied than get stuck on tree branches, under people’s elbows, and whatever trouble she got herself into.

Yasha’s was a different story.

She brushes Yasha’s hair with the care it needs. At some point, Yasha starts humming contently, probably some song she plays on the harp, and Beau feels happy. She feels happy Yasha’s happy.

When the are no more knots, Beau takes the brush to her own hair and ties it. Yasha watches her through it and pats on the mattress so she can lay next to her.

They stare at each other for a while. Beau follows Yasha’s eyes move to every feature of her face so she screws with it, frowning and winking and Yasha laughs, hiding her face on the pillow like a teenager.

Beau runs her fingers through her hair again and wants to say something to get her to look back but she doesn’t have the words. She can’t say these words so she doesn’t say anything.

Later, she thinks she should have said something.


	15. The Threads Converge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the angst one, sorry

The bar is all the rage during happy hour; loud conversations, sports on the tv and the stale smell of beer that feels like home. Fjord has the biggest grin on his face, so very thankful that Beau and Yasha tagged along to his kind of fun. As so, he jumps on his feet to fetch some more drinks, stumbling a bit on his way out of the barstool but managing not to bump into anyone.

As soon as he’s gone, Beau turns her attention back to Yasha, who is also watching him go. She squeezes their interlocked hands to get her attention and Yasha’s gaze finds her, eyes a bit foggy like her mind was a million miles away.

“Sorry. I’m talking too much,” Beau says, “I’ll bring you into the conversation more.”

“Oh. That’s ok. I’m enjoying it,” Yasha comes closer and takes an eyelash that got stuck in Beau’s cheek, “I like just being here with you.”

She blows the eyelash away and looks back with a grin, like she knew that simple move would have Beau attentively tracking her fingers to her lips. 

Much too quickly, Beau catches on and pull her in for a messy kiss, fast and thorough as if to devour Yasha’s cheeky grin of victory. These days just the fact that she can kiss Yasha, her honest-to-God girlfriend, whenever she damn well pleases, is an everlasting source of joy. It's good to live in Beau's world today.

Yasha, for her part, barely pretends to be surprised, answering in kind; it is not like she was going to complain when her lips are otherwise occupied.

They part, slightly breathless, and, feeling suddenly inspired, Beau holds her gaze with a wicked thought. She slips her hand up Yasha’s thigh and runs one fingernail at the inner seams of her jeans, dragging harshly to get across a little bit of the intense heat she feels whenever she and Yasha kiss.

“Beau, no.” Yasha jolts back and halts her hand.

“Yasha, yes,” Beau replies in a whining tone. 

She pouts, mockingly, because knows Yasha loves when she puts up this silly annoying girlfriend act. Yasha giggles in return, so does Beau, and they lean into each other’s personal space like two girls in love.

Yasha takes Beau’s hands and holds them together. “Stop. It’s too public.”

“Oh, so if it were less public that would be ok?”

“I, I…” Yasha stutters, unsure whether to deny or confess, and Beau takes it as a good sign.

Ever since Yasha came back from Roshona, their relationship has been in an all-time high, with the distance making the heart grow fonder and stronger and more intimate, or some bullshit like that. It’s like before they were figuring it out how to communicate and now they had a language all of their own, which made for more trust, less insecurity and great sex.

For one, Beau now wasn’t afraid to ask for a hug or a kiss after a hard day and just let herself be held without feeling pitied. Instead, she allowed herself felt safe and sure in Yasha’s arms and, truth be told, she never wanted to leave them. 

Which is why is so hard to let go when Fjord asked them to go out tonight. Whereas before she’d beg him to go and get drinks, this time it took Fjord’s utterly exhausted face and Yasha’s propensity for compassion for her to even consider trading a night in with her girl for a trip to the bar. 

Her mind, though, keep wandering off to where they could be doing right now. So, Beau scoots closer, both legs framing Yasha’s, and whispers in her ears. 

“Come on Yash. Don’t you want to wait ‘til they’re closing and take me to that bathroom for the better part of an hour?” Yasha shivers and Beau goes on, voice dropping lower. “It would be so hot. We could fog up the mirror, bang against the door. They’ll hear me but I don’t care.”

Beau sees Yasha take a bite on her lower lip, vivid pictures running through her head.

“What are you doing?” Fjord pleads, two pints of ale in his hand and a comically exaggerated look of discomfort in his face. “You’re too close, leave room for... Something respectful. Why am I always the one in a date with the lesbians?”

“Boo, shut up,” Beau protests while Yasha chuckles, standing back to help him serve the ale. “Just so you know, we were talking about how we’re going to have sex in the bathroom later." Fjord chokes on his drink and she taps him on the back. "See, later. Not now. We're getting great at this respectful thing.”

Fjord huffs with a roll of his eyes and Yasha laughs, even if bashful at Beau’s irreverence.

“Anyway,” Beau continues, “We still haven’t talked about your corporate hell and why is it that we’re here.”

“Nope,” Fjord emphasizes the “p”, “we’re not talking about it, because it is hell but I’m making changes and fulfilling my destiny and it’s so taxing but it’s for the good of the planet and I just have to relax.”

“Ok…” Yasha holds up her tanker, in her uniquely steadfast manner, “So, shots?”

Fjord nods. 

A few drinks later, Yasha has to go to the restroom and the two "bjreaus" are left to their own devices.

Beau starts, “No, but, seriously, are you ok? You’re not overworked or anything?”

Fjord sighs, not sure how to respond. Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t, but either way he won’t tell her; also, he’s a bit distracted by this one girl strutting across the bar. 

She’s short, curvaceous and wearing an entirely too tight dress that doesn’t match the look of wonder and naiveté in her face. 

“Damn,” Beau exhales when she spots her; she is really cute. She turns fully to him, “Bro, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go over there, and talk to pretty girls and feel like a new man.”

“What? No,” Fjord dismisses, especially now that the girl finally found her girl friends and they are also gorgeous, “I’m quite happy with my beer and peanuts and lesbians and…”

“Dude! No, that’s what you need! You need to get laid!” Fjord gives her a look and she does her best to lower her voice. “Look, you’re stressed out and that girl is totally gorgeous. And more, now that you work in hell, you also gettin' seriously paid, so use that blood money for something, man!"

Fjord still shakes his head, trying not to be convinced. Yasha returns and Beau motions her to come closer.

“Yasha, help me out here, he should get ass, he deserves it!” Beau exclaims and Yasha awkwardly nods along, “you know this. You’re gonna call the bartender and send a bottle over. They gasp, find you across the bar and you go over, confident, like a boss. Pay for their drinks, girls like that, pay for their fucking evening, anything they want, and then you’re in.”

Fjord’s eyes focus on the girl, flickers back to Beau. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Beau not-so-accidently punches him in the arm and then rubs it; apparently, working for a social cause also makes you ripped. “And if you can’t close, nod me along and I’ll wingman the shit out of you. But you got this. You got this good.”

Beau drags out that last words to make her point. A moment passes, with Fjord slowly nodding and then chugging his beer.

He puffs his chest and stands up, “You know, I missed this, good times.”

Beau howlers, and immediately ducks down, hiding after her shout gets the attention of too many people at the bar, including the girls. Yasha chuckles and helps to pull her down to the stool.

They wait as the bartender goes over. A couple of seconds later, the girls look back and thank for the drinks. Much more confidently, Fjord gives a parting nod and goes over.

Yasha watches Beau as she tracks her friend with her eyes, almost as invested as the man himself in this ploy. “I have questions.”

Beau cringes before turning and nodding, already sensing she’s in trouble.

"Helping a friend out, you know? But my eyes are only set on you, babe."

Yasha chuckles. “Oh, I hope so.”

"They really are," Beau sighs and leans in for another kiss. Yasha happily obliges. 

They hang out some more, drinking and talking. At some point, the girls cheer loudly for Fjord, the cute girl comfortably tucked under his arm, and Yasha sighs heavily.

“Can we go now? I think Fjord’s got it.”

Beau sees something akin to nervousness in Yasha’s eyes and just nods. They don’t really talk on the ride home, silently listening to the radio the driver had already playing. 

When a particular song starts, a memory comes to Beau’s mind, but she can’t quite place it. 

“Do you know what song this is? I think I heard it somewhere before.”

“It was playing that night, on our first date.” Yasha’s voice is a bit squeaky, but maybe it’s because Beau’s head is laid across her lap.

“Cool,” and Beau closes her eyes to listen to it. It’s good, an electropop, smooth sound to it. It's good.

When they arrive, Yasha hesitates with her keys, movements restless like she's stalling.

“Hey. Is everything ok?”

Yasha goes in a hurry, without acknowledging her, and Beau follows, worried.

“Yash…”

“Beau,” Yasha interrupts her, still not looking but fidgeting, “You said we should talk and never go to bed angry, right?”

“Yeah”, Beau is unsure, she can’t piece together what went wrong. In her booze hazed state, she tries, "If this is about that girl, I didn't mean anything by it. I only like you and, yes, sometimes I look..."

“No, no. I’m not angry. I’m nervous. I don’t know. I have to ask. Are you happy?”

The question surprises her. “What?”

“I know you like being with me, but where are we going with this?”

The sudden questioning, at this late hour, totally disarms Beau and, against her own best judgment, she goes into a rant.

“Where is this coming from? Of course, I’m happy. It’s the happiest I’ve been. You're not breaking up with me, right? 'Cause...”

Yasha cuts off with a shout, "I need to tell you something." 

Beau stops. Yasha comes closer and takes her hands; they are still shaking but Yasha’s touch helps.

"I receive word from the League; my plea worked."

Beau tries to piece things together. "Your plea for Zuala?"

"Yes. I found others with the same situation, we worked it out and the case was trialed today."

Beau sees the glints of joy in Yasha's eyes but something is not clicking just yet.

"Then... why didn't Fjord said anything about it?"

"He's not my lawyer anymore. He hasn't for a while." Yasha sighs heavily and takes a step back. "I got a lawyer in Xhorhas because I need to finish things off in Xhorhas. I..." Yasha shuffles something in her pocket, "Got them to recognize my marriage with Zuala. So now I got her things."

"Well..." Beau holds out for something but Yasha keeps looking at her like she grew another head. "That's good, right?"

"Yeah," Yasha shuffles in her pocket again, "And we got the Skyspear to step down and maybe she'll go to trial. It's not final yet, but the team was very welcoming and..."

"Welcoming?" Beau asks; something about that word holds an ominous tone.

"Yeah. Shoot, I meant to start with that! I got back in the team! If I can get my body right, I'm back. I guess it's a good thing hockey takes to older player better than most sports."

"You're not old," Beau whispers, still computing.

"I mean, for an athlete... The thing is, what I meant what I wanted to ask, if you..."

The thought finally completes; Yasha is going back to Xhorhas.

"You're leaving again?" 

A rush of berating thoughts crosses Beau’s mind. Of course, when she's finally happy Yasha has to leave. And it's to live her fucking dream of all things so there's nothing she can do. There's nothing she can do, right? She can't ask Yasha to stay, that's too selfish. She can't go back and have more time, make her move sooner because she was being respectful or whatever. She can't...

"Well, yeah." Yasha says. Beau begins to spin around, pushing her hands through her head, and Yasha holds her by the shoulders. "Yeah, I'm going. If I'm any good at all I have more 3 or 4 seasons in me. But you..."

Beau looks up, eyes searching for anything that means Yasha gets to stay.

"You could come with me."

Beau's world stops. 

"To Xhorhas?"

"Yes." Yasha smiles and holds her hands again, together this time. "It's just for a while, five years tops. You said you liked the city and I could buy the Xhorhaus for us. A blood money of my own," she jokes, then regrets the joke instantly.

Beau looks at Yasha and sees her excitement, she practically buzzes with expectation. And, as always, a familiar feeling takes hold of her heart.

"I can't."

Yasha stops, her eyes losing that edge. Beau searches for an argument, a logic behind her feeling but her mind is set on one thing.

"I'm happy as we are.” Beau implores, words coming out strangled, "why can't we stay like this?".

Yasha drops her hands. She looks down, hand moving back to her pocket.

"You're happy like this."

"Yeah! I fucking am!" Beau shouts, words falling off her mouth a million miles per hour as she tries to ask explain. "Look, things are easy and fun with you. You're so pretty and hot and, shit, that's not it. No, wait. That's exactly it. I like you. I don't want you to go."

Yasha asks again. "You're happy?"

"Yeah." The same sad undertone comes from Yasha' lips so Beau has to ask, "Aren't you?"

Yasha doesn't say anything. She takes her hand out of her pocket, empty, runs it through her hair.

"I don't know. I don't know if I can be happy if I don't get to finish what I started."

"You mean..."

"I have to go back." Her voice falters. "With or without you."

Beau's world shatters.

Yasha is still not looking at her, eyes cast down and mournful. Were they... breaking up? How did this happen?

"I'm sorry for putting you in this situation. I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no!” Beau screams, then backs down. “I'm happy, I mean, I'm happy for you for the lawsuit." She feels Yasha's is slipping away and it's her fault. She has to stop it. "We can still date! Long distance!"

Yasha looks up with a tinge of hope that snuffs out way too quickly.

Beau continues, "We did long distance already. It worked. We can do it again, for as long as you need."

"I don't think it will be the same for five years."

"What do you mean?"

"We..." Yasha's voice cracks.

For the first time since the Cathedral, Beau sees Yasha cry.

"Yash..."

Yasha storms off, running to the bedroom and shutting the door behind her. 

Beau stands there, hitting herself over the head on why her first thought of Yasha asking her to move was to say no.

The truth is she knows why. Happiness is so elusive to Beau that she doesn't know how to keep it. Things in Zadash are so good; she has her apartment and a job she loves, her friends all live close by and that terrible feeling of nostalgia that took over her for so long went away. For once, she doesn't regret every single decision she takes and her life feels her own; she can't risk losing it. 

But then life is not life without Yasha. Yasha makes everything worth it, makes want to do more and live for more than herself. 

It’s so unfair, how things can just change. She never wants things to change. Just when she's getting a grip on things, just as she's getting ready, someone else, something else moves her, bruises her, takes her and there's nothing she can do about it. She hates change. But things have changed.

She hears a cracking sound beyond the door, something like glass shattering, and runs forward, knocking rapidly.

"Yasha. Yasha! Is everything ok in there?" There is no response. "Answer me or I'll break this door down."

A small voice comes from the other side; if she weren't so perceptive, she might have missed it.

"I'm here."

There's a thump against the door and Beau hears Yasha sliding down against the door on the other side.

"Are you hurt? I heard glass?"

She hears sniffles muffled against the door and then the answer comes.

"I'm not cut, no."

Beau sulks at the implied meaning in her words; she might not be hurt from cut glass but she is hurt nonetheless.

She reaches for the doorknob but stops. She's only going to make things worse now. She needs to think. She can fix it if she thinks about it. She needs to sleep on it then she'll fix it.

She sits with her back against the door.

"I'm sleeping here on the floor, if you don't mind."

"It's good for your back, I think." Yasha's voice comes coarse and broken through the wood. 

Beau laughs, instinctually, and cross her legs. "Sure."

"I think I'm gonna sleep here too. I don't mind the floor."

"Me neither."

"Ok."

"Goodnight, Yasha."

"Goodnight, Beau."

Although not much sleep is had, the morning comes, mournful, and Beau stretches her legs. She didn't dream, which could be a blessing or a curse; she wishes an answer had come through in a dream but, as she stands, her mind can only muster up nightmares.

The door screeches open behind her and Beau turns to see a sullen Yasha against it.

"Hi," she says, back to her low, flat voice.

"Hi." Too fast, words tumble out of Beau’s lips again, as pleading as before. "Please, listen to me. I'm sorry. Can we talk about this? I’m trying so hard to find a way and I'm coming up empty."

"That's ok, Beau. I do have an idea. I'll stay."

Once again, Yasha knocks her over with a surprise.

"What? What about the team?"

"There's still time to cancel. I'll just tell them I'm staying."

"No, Yash. You can't give it up because of me. You have to go."

"I'll stay."

"But you won't be happy."

"But I'll stay."

Beau's heart shatters. She can't think Yasha would just give up everything for her like that. Beau did nothing to earn this. If anything, she owes so much for putting it up with her trust issues, and daddy issues, and abandonment issues. For crying out loud, she hasn't even told Yasha that she loves her!

Yasha takes her hand slowly and starts walking into the kitchen. When Beau doesn't follow, she looks back.

"Come on. I'll make breakfast."

"No, Yasha, you have to go."

Now it's Yasha's time to question. "What?"

"You said it yourself. You won't be happy unless you go do your thing and I don't want to keep you from that."

Yasha looks more heartbroken than confused now. "But what about us? You’re not going. That means we won’t be together."

Beau takes a deep breath; she's always been a loner after all.

"I'm a stupid fucking asshole who doesn't deserve you. I can't go but you should. You go and be happy and win a lot of trophies."

"No, Beau. I don't mind trophies, I want..."

"No!" Beau interrupts her, "You'll go. And you'll be better off for it. I'll hang back and you leave."

Yasha opens and shuts her mouth; she does that a few times, unsure what to say. She lets go of Beau's hand and looks into her eyes one more time.

"I'll come back."

"Maybe."

"No." Yasha, in all her height, steps dangerously close, breathing down onto Beau’s forehead. "I will."

She steps away.

The entire Mighty Nein gathers to bid Yasha goodbye. One by one they hug her and sing their well wishes, all except for Beau. Instead, she watches from a distance, following with her eyes until the very last second, until Yasha turns around and the automatic airport doors shut behind her.

"You know," Caleb whispers to her on their way out, "You could have gone with her."

Beau chuckles a broken empty laughter, tears barely holding in her eyes. "I couldn't. I couldn't find another asshole of a boss like you."

"No. You can't find another like her either."


	16. Lingering Wounds

They fall into each other arms again, back to Beau’s apartment.

It’s finally Friday and just the thought that she wouldn't have to go to work tomorrow is slightly arousing. Plus, Yasha’s company is an absolutely treat after a week of hard work.

Beau pushes her towards the couch and stops to admire. As infuriatingly as always, Yasha looks amazing: hair tossed to one side, flannel dropping down her elbow where Beau was trying to take it off, black jeans-cladded legs spread wide and a smile full of mischief and excitement. She is taking in Beau herself, in her posh teacher look, with the suspenders and formal pants, pin-tucked shirt and boots, in shades of grays and charcoal.

At Beau's hesitation, she leans back on the couch, putting one elbow on the back and gives a challenging nod.

"Strip."

Beau furrow her brows. "What?"

"Take off your clothes. Like, in a sexy way."

"Oh." She replies, even if a little confused on how to go about it. Beau never thought about doing this before, fancying herself more of connoisseur of the female beauty than the object of it.

"Do we need music for this?"

Yasha chuckles. "No, no. I don't think so. Unless you wanna. I... I just wanna see you."

Beau holds back a blush again. It really is strange to let yourself be ogled like this, especially by Yasha, who looks so hot and easy, biting her lip in anticipation.

To test the waters, Beau brings her hands to her top knot, remembering how fixated in having her hair down Yasha was in their first times together. Yasha's eyes follow her hand, drinking in the neck muscles and just the peak of a collarbone in display, then following the move of Beau’s fingers as they sink into the roots and brush her hair to the side.

Yasha’s tongue runs through dry lips, almost feral-like, and she nods. Beau gulps, managing to find the buttons on her shirt without looking. God, she wished she was in her lounging clothes or even her yoga pants, instead of her work clothes, which has way too many pieces to remove.

She has to strategize. First the shirt, then the suspenders, then the pants, oh, wait, first the boots then the pants. Bra first or underwear first? And when do the socks go? 

Yasha sighs, eyes glued to Beau's fingers undoing the last button just above the navel. 

"You didn't wear a vest today?" She asks.

"No," Beau stutters, "I had a blazer. I think I left it in your car."

Yasha pulls her closer by the belt loops and looks up; even sitting down, she is just about Beau's height, her lips just out of reach for a kiss.

"You look good in those," she says, toying with the end of the suspenders until Beau gets the hint and releases them one at the time.

"Of course, I do," Beau boasts, jokingly. 

She sets one foot down in between Yasha's legs, just shy of actually touching her, but resting against the couch cushion. Yasha tightens her grip on the cushion as Beau leans down, offering an ample view of her chest, and slowly unties her wingtip boots. 

Once they are both gone, she stands back up, finally pulling the shirt off. Yasha's hands jump to her hips, then back down to the couch, quickly. 

It does things to Beau; she knows what it is like to want Yasha but to be wanted by her is somewhat new, and very hot.

Beau's fingers tease over her dress pants, matching the pace of her fingertips to Yasha's ragged breaths. It's like her own kind of music, and she shuffles her feet, shimmies her shoulders, even if little awkward, but it doesn't bother Yasha, who still clings onto the couch for her dear life, a dashing smirk on her lips.

She lets the pants drop and kicks them away. As her legs shift, Beau becomes vividly aware of her underwear sticking to her.

So, she puts her thumbs on the edge of it, a pair of boyshorts she got once Yasha and her started dating; it's has a tiny blue bow on the front and it has stripes of lace mixed with stripes of cotton in black and white. It's the girliest thing she ever owned, but it's so soft and Yasha practically bites her lower lip off when she starts sliding it down.

The wet sound rings loudly on the otherwise silent room. Yasha's eyes zero in on the glistening patch of dark hair as soon as it comes into view and Beau has to stop herself from squirming under her gaze.

She's too slow, though, and Yasha catches it, feet shifting between hers to get her legs to open up. The move is so sudden Beau loses her footing and drops right into Yasha's lap. If not for her training, she might have slipped down to the floor, but she manages to hold onto Yasha's shoulders and settles over her thighs.

"You look so pretty like this," Yasha purrs, hands finally coming back to hold onto the safe place of Beau's hips. 

"You're one to talk." Beau closes the distance, locks her legs around Yasha’s waist. "You're beautiful."

Yasha looks down, a shy smirk on her face as her hands dance around Beau’s back and hips.

"Stop it, you're making me... I... I'm the one serenading you."

Beau's brows shoot all the way to her hairline. "Serenading?"

"Yeah. Like," she takes a breath. "Beau, Beau, Beau." Yasha looks up again, burrowing her eyes into Beau's. "Eyes so blue, hair so shorn on the sides. You are soft but strong."

Amused, Beau listens, face getting hotter by the second. Yasha continues, running rugged hands over her thighs and up to her breasts.

"Your abs are hard," she massages Beau's boobs between her fingers, "yet you are so supple."

That incites a shuddering breath from Beau and she keens, starting a slow grind against Yasha's lap.

"Beautiful, brave." Yasha pushes harder, her left hand moving down towards Beau's uncovered center, while the right unhooks her bra. "You are the muse of my yearning, my heart is warm and ready for you."

Beau chuckles, chucking her bra to the side, "You're not bad at this, you know."

"Really?" Yasha asks in a sarcastic tone, just as she sinks her teeth on the top of her breasts. Beau gasps, nails scratching Yasha's shoulders and then dipping down to nip at her earlobe.

"Yeah. One might say you a woman of many talents," Beau whispers.

Yasha takes it as encouragement and slips one finger into Beau. 

Beau gasps, and Yasha pumps her hand once, then twice, responding to the sounds Beau lets escape next to her ear. She pushes another finger in and continues with her poem.

"I long for your gasps. I bathe in them."

Yasha brings her thumb into the mix and Beau moans, long and wanting. 

“I love the sounds you make.”

Beau’s hands burrow into Yasha’s hair, and she pulls the locks tightly, releasing puffs of air that escape her agape mouth.

When Yasha uses her hand on her hip to bring them closer, a euphoria takes over Beau. Yasha has this strength to her, an unwavering drive to please that Beau doesn’t hold back when they are together. It's like she can let go and she gives herself away, sight slipping away as her eyes roll to the back of her head. Her muscles relax, trusting under Yasha's hands. It's freeing, this trust and she lets herself fall.

A sudden orgasm takes over her. Beau grasps on her shoulders and Yasha brings her free hand to Beau's back to keep them upright as she trashes for a moment and then stops. 

"Fuck," both of them say at the same time.

Yasha chuckles a little at Beau’s tiny hiss when she moves her hand back and Beau shutters, embarrassed, “I don’t know what happened. I…”

“That’s ok, Beau,” Yasha chuckles again.

“No,” Beau fights against her hurt pride, “I can last longer. I’ll go down on you, just…” She moves to get up but her legs are still too unstable. “Just give me a second, I’ll…”

“Beau,” Yasha calls out, clean hand running through Beau’s hair and bringing some of the runaway strands over to one side again. “Stop worrying. You’re doing wonders for my ego. I mean...”

They look around and take the scene: Beau is completely naked over Yasha’s still totally clothed lap, where just came from some minor touching and dirty talk. 

Beau looks down, and her voice gets small and high-pitched. “It’s just, no one has ever read me a poem before.”

Yasha’s expression turns serious for a moment. “Well, they should’ve.”

Beau drops her head forward with a sigh, resting on her shoulder. 

After a few moments catching her breath, she pulls her arms around Yasha and runs her tongue over to her ear, than back down to bite onto her neck, sucking on her pulse point. Yasha grunts, and shifts Beau on her lap, revealing a wet spot on her stomach.

“Shit. I totally ruined your shirt.”

“It’s a white tank top.” Yasha dismisses, “I can buy more of those.”

With an apology, Beau gets up, legs finally her own again. Yasha blushes slightly, still too bashful around a naked Beau, but follows when she pulls them to the bedroom.

She starts undressing Yasha, taking of the flannel, tank top and bra one at the time. “So, what can I do to get my reputation back?” She moves to the pants, kneeling before Yasha, who gulps and helps to kick off her shoes.

“I don’t know. I feel like you can come up with something.”

“Nah. I’m just gonna wing it.”

At that, Beau trips the unsuspecting Yasha and she falls flat on her ass on the bed. Beau jumps right after her, stretching her small frame above Yasha the best she can and stealing a breathtaking kiss.

She drowns Yasha in bites and licks that go back and forward between her lips and her neck. Yasha moans, hands flying up to pull Beau closer, and lets Beau go to town on her chest, abs, shoulders, neck. She finds herself rutting against Beau’s stationary thigh, that before her body shifts up and Beau stops to look over her.

“I’m gonna ravage you.”

Yasha shudders as Beau moves around, heading down between her legs.

Yasha sighs at the first touch of her tongue, teasing over her inner thighs before diving in between her folds. Beau sucks and laps, stretching one hand up to play with Yasha’s boobs and twisting a nipple between her fingers.

Yasha screams, not used to the pain play, and sheepishly brings her own hand to the base of her throat. She squeezes lightly, intensifying every time Beau gets a little rougher, and a particularly loud gasp catches Beau’s attention.

She steps back, lips shining with Yasha’s slick, and slides back up, taking the assaulted nipples into her mouth. Yasha groans, trying to keep Beau closer while still holding her own neck. This goes on for a few minutes, with Beau refusing to touch her directly and just marking her way across Yasha’s torso.

“You are so beautiful.”

Yasha sighs at the compliment, squirming under Beau, like she’s not used to be in this position. Beau finally lets up and slides a hand down, slowly circling Yasha’s clit and continuing with her bites on her chest.

“Beau, Beau…” Yasha pleas, getting closer with every second.

“Come on, Yash. Just let go, I’ve got you.”

Yasha grunts and her hand holds impossibly tighter. All at once, her sights leave her and it all black-outs.

When she comes to, Beau is by her side, comfortably tucked under her arm and running a single finger over the various marks on her chest.

“I wish I could see us right now, remember this moment forever.” Yasha mumbles, looking over her bed to the empty ceiling, and coughs a little, throat dry. “We need a mirror.”

Beau laughs, blushing.

Then she wakes up.


End file.
